Finding Redemption
by lorilee66
Summary: One of Jarrod's crusades goes horribly wrong.  A 'what if' based on one of the episodes
1. Chapter 1

_A special thanks to my beta, tuffydog_

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"GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK! THIS FAMILY'LL BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU!"

Jarrod picked himself slowly up off the ground. Every breath he tried to take caused a stabbing pain in his chest and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. His head spun as he staggered to his feet and leaned against the fence, fighting down the nausea that threatened to send him back to his knees.

"You show your face around here again and you're a dead man. I swear, I'll kill you."

Knowing what he'd done and seeing the look of fury in Nick's eyes, Jarrod wasn't sure if he should be thankful or not that his brother didn't just finish the job right there.

"I'm sorry, Nick." Jarrod's voice was barely audible. The pain in his cheek was like fire when he spoke and he knew the words were too little, too late, but he had to say them anyway.

"You're _sorry_? With Mother and Heath lying upstairs, not knowing if they're gonna make it and you're _sorry_?" Nick's wrath turned into an icy coldness. "Just get out of my sight," the tall rancher spat and he stalked across the yard to the house, never looking back. Jarrod stood, swaying, trying to get his body to co-operate, and the beaten and abandoned lawyer willed one foot ahead of the other in the direction of the barn.

Reaching the side of the building, Jarrod leaned against the wall heavily, trying to catch his breath, trying to control the dizziness as he struggled to retain the contents of his stomach. He hadn't tried to fight back as Nick pounded him, pummeling his face, ribs and abdomen, taking each blow as the punishment he deserved for bringing such torture to his family.

Taking as deep a breath as the excruciating pain in his chest would allow, Jarrod stumbled his way to Jingo's stall. He managed to get the blanket on, the sorrel snorting uneasily. Jarrod's side screamed in pain as he hoisted the saddle onto Jingo's back and he had to pause, leaning into his horse's shoulder as a shudder of agony almost overcame him. Painfully, he tightened the cinch and dragged the bridle over Jingo's head. Clutching his side, the injured man found a bedroll, canteen and saddlebags, kept ready in case they were ever needed in a hurry.

Jarrod gazed at the height of the sorrel's back after fastening the supplies to the cantle of the saddle and wondered if he'd actually be able to mount. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed onto the saddle horn, placed his foot carefully in the stirrup and pulled himself up. His hand slipped as another surge of dizziness hit him, but he grimly hung on and forced his other leg to swing over. Jingo shifted restlessly as Jarrod sat still, fighting off wave after wave of nausea and pain before he finally managed to give his mount a nudge in the side and rode slowly out the gate in front of the stately mansion he called home.

He rode for what seemed like hours, the sun finally rising to beat mercilessly on his bare head. Jarrod hadn't thought to grab a hat when he left, but right now, that seemed of little importance. Barely holding on to consciousness, all he could see was the blood on Heath's shirt, the despair in his mother's eyes before…

He shook his head, trying to banish those images from his mind. That action almost undid him and he barely maintained his hold on Jingo's back so he wouldn't fall out of the saddle. It was then he noticed his horse had stopped and Jarrod blinked a few times to focus on why. They were standing in front of a small building, and Jarrod realized foggily he'd guided his mount to a line shack on the farthest edge of Barkley property.

Sliding from Jingo's back, Jarrod grabbed at the stirrup when his knees buckled, hanging on until the dizziness passed. He looped the reins around the rail and staggered to the door. As he forced it open, Jarrod lost his precarious hold on the world and pitched forward though the opening as blackness overtook him.

Several hours later, Jarrod awoke to a burning thirst. His body screamed in agony as he sat up, knives stabbing into his chest and his cheek throbbing to the same beat as his heart. He figured he had several broken or cracked ribs and knew moving around wasn't a good idea if he didn't want to risk puncturing a lung, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was less than he deserved after what he'd done.

Painfully dragging himself to his feet, Jarrod moved outside and saw Jingo, pulling on his reins to try to reach a nearby clump of grass. More guilt washed over Jarrod as he realized that he'd left his mount out in the sun for how long he didn't know without caring for him.

"Sorry, Jingo, old boy," he whispered, untying the sorrel. He made his slow way to the small creek that ran close to the shack, Jingo trailing behind and the horse immediately stuck his nose in the cool water and drank greedily. Jarrod unlooped the canteen from the saddle and sank to his knees, filling it and taking a long drink himself.

Suddenly, his belly clenched and the water came back up. Jarrod retched until there was nothing left and his body was on fire with the pain in his ribs and face. He stayed on his hands and knees, shuddering, trying to breathe. When he felt capable, Jarrod pushed himself up and recapped the canteen. Jingo hadn't moved away and Jarrod was able to grab the stirrup and haul himself into the saddle. He knew he should stay and rest, but he wasn't welcome there anymore. He slowly mounted and Jingo obediently set off.

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"Mister, you need a doctor."

Jarrod turned bleary eyes on the owner of the young voice but couldn't make them focus.

"Doc Millar's just down the street. I'll run and fetch him."

Jarrod leaned heavily against his horse's side. Not sure where he was or even how long he'd been travelling, the only thing he was sure of was if he moved away from the support, he'd be lying face down in the dirt.

"Okay, son, just lean on me." Jarrod was aware of his arm being placed around someone's shoulders and a strong hand grabbed the back of his belt. "One step at a time, easy does it and we'll have you lying down and take a look at you. Jake, why don't you take this man's horse to the livery while I get him settled at the hotel, then bring his gear up to the room." The voice was gruff, but gentle and soothing and Jarrod felt himself half-walking, half-carried until his battered body was set on a soft surface. "Now just lie back so I can have a look."

He felt his shirt being removed and gasped as probing fingers worked their way over his side.

"Nothing broken, you're lucky there's only a few cracked ribs," the voice said. "How'd this happen?"

"Just… got in a fight," Jarrod muttered, not offering any details and gasped again as the fingers prodded his cheek.

"Could be a small break here, eating's not going to be much fun for the next little while." Efficient hands turned him carefully and bound his ribs and Jarrod clenched his teeth tight against the pain.

"Brought his things, Doc," the younger voice announced, "and Harvey sent some water up."

Jarrod felt his head lifted and a glass held to his lips. Remembering what happened the last time, Jarrod only took a few small sips.

"Now you just rest and I'll be back to check on you later," came the doctor's voice. "You're extremely dehydrated, so drink as much as you can keep down. There's a full pitcher of water on the table beside you."

"How much… I owe you, Doc?"

Jarrod received a reassuring pat to the shoulder.

"We'll settle that later. You're certainly in no shape to skip out of town any time soon. Now rest."

Jarrod heard the door close and sank back into a fitful slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Jarrod woke slowly to unfamiliar surroundings. Concentrating, he tried to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there and it came gradually in bits and pieces. He rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, muscles protesting at the movement. It still hurt to breathe and his face still throbbed painfully, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. With shaky hands, he reached over to the pitcher on the nightstand and poured some water, drinking slowly, wishing it was something stronger. He ruthlessly pushed away the memory of why he was there in the first place and stood, making his slow way over to the washstand and the mirror that hung above it.

Jarrod stared for a moment at the ghastly sight staring back at him. The left side of his face was a mottled purple, eye almost swollen shut and his bottom lip was split and puffy. Jarrod could see similar bruising down his right side above and below the bandage across his chest, all testament to the beating he'd received at his brother's hands. He splashed some water on his face and ran his wet hands through his hair before shrugging into his dirty and stained shirt, buttoning and tucking it in. Feeling a bit more human, Jarrod sat back on the bed and took stock of his situation.

The saddlebags revealed basic supplies: jerky, hardtack, matches and a knife, a battered tin cup and a small packet of coffee. He found a few coins, but nothing else on him until he checked his vest pocket and realized his wallet was still there. Jarrod examined its contents and found about fifty dollars in assorted bills plus two blank bank drafts.

Putting the wallet back in his pocket, Jarrod carefully went down the stairs to the bar that doubled as a hotel lobby. Not sure exactly what time it was, Jarrod guessed it must have been early, as only a few patrons were scattered around the room and the smell of frying bacon was in the air. His stomach churning at the thought of food, Jarrod leaned against the bar.

"Hope the other guy looks as pretty as you," the bartender commented as he came over. "What'll it be?"

"Just coffee." Jarrod fought off the urge to order something stronger; there'd be time enough to drown his sorrows after he figured out what he was going to do. He dug a coin from his pocket and threw it on the counter before taking his cup and sitting at a table off to the side, thoughts and regrets weighing heavily on the dark-haired man.

It had happened before; one or another of his crusades for truth and justice jeopardizing himself or his family. He remembered Korby Kyles, how Korby's brothers and father had beat Heath, promising to harm the family if he testified, while Jarrod stubbornly kept defending the, as he later found out, guilty man. He remembered Billy Joe Gaines and how his men had threatened Jarrod's mother because Jarrod convinced Maybelle she'd have a better life without the wild outlaw. He remembered threats hurled in the courtroom, most directed at him personally, but a few aimed at his family as well. But never had he been so directly responsible for the harm that had come to those he loved.

Jarrod's head sunk into his hands. He couldn't go back home even if he wanted to; Nick had made that abundantly clear. And quite frankly, he deemed Nick was right, the family would be better off without him. He desperately wanted to know how his mother and Heath were, but if he sent a wire, would it even be read? He had no right to expect anything and resigned himself to praying that they were alive and well.

"Thought I told you to rest."

Jarrod looked up at the remembered voice of the doctor who'd checked him over. A sturdy middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and kind brown eyes stood before him, arms crossed and a stern expression on his craggy face. Jarrod forced a small smile.

"Not doing anything strenuous, doc," he replied.

The doctor sat across from him and took Jarrod's chin in his hand, inspecting his bruised face. "Well, I guess you'll live," he pronounced, "but I still recommend you stay put for a day or two. And stay away from whoever it was you tangled with."

Jarrod started to sigh, but the pain in his ribs stopped him. He wasn't sure if he'd ever see his brother again. "No need to worry about that."

The doctor stood. "Well, I've got rounds to do. Stop by my office later and I'll check you over again."

Jarrod nodded as the doctor left. He stayed where he was, accepting the bartender's offer of a refill on the coffee but declining anything more substantial. After a couple hours of sitting alone with his thoughts, Jarrod came up with a plan. Not much of a plan, but a start. A clean start, make a clean break, that was what he had to do. Away from the temptation to take on another crusade that put those he cared about at risk. Away from the people he loved so much, but had hurt so badly. Away from the Barkley money and Barkley name that he didn't deserve.

He asked for a pen, paper and envelopes and went back to his room. Pulling out his wallet, Jarrod extracted the bank drafts and quickly filled them in, a few hundred dollars to live on for a while and the other for what he knew was the remainder in his account. He wrote on the front of one of the envelopes and tucked the largest draft inside with a brief note before sealing it. Then he quickly penned another letter and addressed that one as well. Jarrod went back downstairs and asked for directions to the post office and the bank, feeling a bit of the weight on his soul lifted.

He spent the rest of the day in his room, trying to sleep. His body rested, but his mind couldn't. Jarrod continued to replay the events of the past days over in his head, desperately wishing he had done things differently. He'd been reluctant to be a part of the charade at first, but they'd convinced him it was vital, that justice couldn't be served without his help and the plan he'd been presented with seemed so well thought out, he didn't even consider anything would happen.

How wrong that assumption had turned out to be, how horribly, horribly wrong. He should have known better, should have known that his mother and brothers wouldn't just sit back and let events unfold. Jarrod prayed again that his family wasn't paying the ultimate price for his blind pursuit of justice before succumbing to a restless sleep.

The next morning, after finishing collecting the supplies he thought he'd need, Jarrod presented himself at the doctor's office on his way out of town, dressed in clean clothes and outfitted with the utilitarian gunbelt he'd purchased at the small general store.

Dr. Millar took careful appraisal of Jarrod's attire. "Looks like you're ready for travelling."

Jarrod nodded. "I wasn't about to leave without settling what I owe you."

The doctor insisted on a cursory examination first. "Nothing I say will make you rest a few more days, will it," he stated, not bothering to pose it as a question.

"No, it won't," Jarrod confirmed as he replaced his hat on his head. "The sooner I get going, the sooner I can try to put everything behind me."

Knowing better than to ask questions he wouldn't get an answer to, the doctor stuck out his hand. "Good luck, son."

"Thanks for the help, doc."

Jarrod shook the doctor's hand and left the office, walking to where he'd tethered Jingo. He mounted the sorrel and as he rode off, his gaze drifted toward the horizon. The sun was just rising, spreading its golden rays over the California hills. Jarrod thought back to something his mother once told him, "Dawn helps light the way to a new beginning", and he sent his love across the miles separating them, hoping against hope that all was well in the place his heart would always call home.


	3. Chapter 3

Silas walked across the foyer to answer the front door. A tall man with graying hair and a kind face was standing on the doorstep.

"Father Nicholls, come right in," the Barkley retainer greeted.

"Hello, Silas, I hope I'm not intruding," Father Nicholls responded as Silas moved aside to let him in. "I was wondering how Victoria was and if she felt up to a visitor."

"Missus Barkley's doing just fine," Silas assured him with a smile, "and I'm sure she'd be glad of a visit. She's out on the back porch, enjoying this fine weather."

Silas led the way with the padre following and they found Victoria just as he said, sitting on the porch, a book in her lap. Her right leg was stretched out in front of her, the weight of the plaster cast supported by a low stool.

"Missus Barkley, Father Nicholls came by to see you," Silas announced. "Why don't I bring out some tea and some of those lemon cookies I baked yesterday?"

"That would be lovely, Silas." Victoria bestowed a gracious smile at her guest. "Father, how nice of you to come visit. How are things at the orphanage?"

Father Nicholls pulled a chair over to sit beside the Barkley matriarch. "Well, since you haven't been able to visit, I thought I'd come to you instead. I also have a bit of a puzzle that needs solving."

Victoria was intrigued. "What sort of puzzle?"

Father Nicholls sat back as Silas brought out the tea service.

"Thank you, Silas," Victoria said, dismissing him.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, Missus Barkley," he informed her before heading back into the house.

Father Nicholls poured for himself and his hostess. "It's a puzzle I think Jarrod could help me solve. When do you expect him home?"

Victoria stiffened at the mention of her eldest son, a mix of feelings rushing through her. "I couldn't say," she replied without elaborating.

"Well, maybe you can help." The priest pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "I received this in the mail," he said, handing it to Victoria, "and I wasn't sure what to make of it. The accompanying note says it's a donation, and I was wondering if the amount might have been miswritten."

Victoria opened the envelope and blanched at the large number written on the bank draft over what was obviously Jarrod's signature. She couldn't believe her meticulous son would make an error about something like that, but the only other implication was staggering.

Blinking back a bitter tear, Victoria handed the papers back to Father Nicholls. "No, Padre," she told him, words echoing her thoughts, "Jarrod wouldn't make a mistake like that. I'm sure he feels you'll put the money to good use."

He tucked the envelope back into his pocket. "Well, we definitely have a need for the funds. Be sure to tell Jarrod when you see him how grateful we are and that he'll be in our prayers."

"I will." _If I see him._

Victoria made small talk with the priest, and then pleaded fatigue to cut the visit short. Father Nicholls said his good-byes and Victoria was left alone with her thoughts.

The Barkley family matriarch reflected back to three weeks ago, the last time she had seen her eldest son and the events that unfolded that fateful night. Jarrod always acted out of what he believed was right, with the highest regard for his sense of justice, but that night, his sense of justice wrought a horrible wrong on his family. Victoria was sure his purpose had been noble but it was true what was said, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions".

Victoria closed her eyes, memory taking her back to that horrible night.

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"_Help!" _

_Victoria stumbled and fell as broken lamp set the bundle of old clothes ablaze, fire racing across the floor to lick at the bottom of the curtains. She and Audra kicked at the flames, futilely trying to put them out as Audra yelled, hoping someone would hear._

"_Help! Somebody, help!"_

_They battled the raging flames as best they could, Victoria unable to give up, even knowing their efforts were likely in vain with them tied as they were. Her daughter's life was at stake and the life the men downstairs were planning to take. No, even with her last breath, Victoria would fight and she sensed with pride the same determination in her daughter as they attacked the fire together. Victoria was barely aware of Curtis, the soft-spoken man who was keeping them prisoner, racing into the room, finally stomping out the flames._

"_Lucky thing I smelled smoke down there," he told her, cutting the bonds on Audra's wrists before turning to free Victoria's legs._

"_I suppose we should thank you," Victoria replied cynically._

"_It's not necessary," their captor told her, severing the remaining ropes, "it's our fault you're here."_

_Victoria wondered at the faint tone of regret in his voice as she rubbed her wrists, trying to restore circulation, but shrugged it away. Even if no harm was intended to come to her or Audra, she knew they were there to 'execute a sentence of death' and she feared it might be one of her sons being targeted, even though Heath and Nick weren't scheduled to be home for another couple of days._

_All three heads turned as a shot came from outside, from the direction of the barn._

"_Get up," Curtis directed the women. "I need to check out what's going on and I'll feel a lot better if I know you're safe with me." He motioned for them to precede him out the door and down the stairs, taking Audra's arm firmly as he escorted them down the hall, gun drawn. "Everything all right down there?" he called. "I thought I heard a gunshot outside."_

_From the top of the stairs, Victoria saw the scene that was laid out in the parlour. The man with the eyepatch, Tanner, she thought his name was, was standing by the fireplace, gun drawn. Beside him was a slight, graying man who Victoria recognized as Nick's former commanding officer, General Alderson. Jarrod was standing with his back to the stairs and Nick-_

_Nick was seated on the table, hands tied behind his back. Victoria's heart jumped to her throat. No. Oh, no. It couldn't be her middle son they were planning to execute, could it? He wasn't even supposed to be home. And if Nick was home, that meant Heath should be-_

_Her heart stopped as the front door opened and two men came in, supporting a limp form between them, a form with the front of his shirt covered in blood, a form Victoria instantly recognized as her youngest son._

"_Heath!" She lunged for the stairs, trying to get to him, to all her sons. Curtis grabbed for her and missed, hitting her across the back instead and the last thing she remembered was falling, crying out for her injured son before blackness overtook her._

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Victoria blinked, coming back to the bright sunlight of the garden. Luckily for everyone that night, the events had not proved fatal. Heath was finally cleared to go back to work, much to his and everyone else's relief and she was laid up with a broken leg for only a few more weeks. But her heart still quailed at what her two younger sons had been put through. Nick, put on trial for his life along with his former commander for the massacre at Mayville; Heath, jumping through the window only to be shot and gravely injured while trying to overpower two of the men in a bid to save his beloved brother from being hung by a posse of madmen.

Nick filled her in on the ending of the affair when she woke later the next day, suffering the aftereffects of a concussion. He told her about General Alderson's confession and Jarrod's admission that he was in on the scheme to get the general to admit his culpability in the Mayville massacre and the assassination of President Lincoln. She was even more distraught at finding out Ciego and Silas had been tied and imprisoned for hours while the whole charade was going on. When Nick admitted to beating his older brother within an inch of his life before running him off the ranch, Victoria hadn't chastised him, appalled as well by her oldest son's disregard for the safety and security of his family. Even though some time had past, Nick and Heath still harboured a great deal of resentment, not necessarily for their involvement, more so for the danger and terror their mother and sister had been exposed to.

Neither had offered to go look for their brother and Victoria herself didn't feel inclined to push them, not caring to extend the olive branch to Jarrod any time soon.

But three weeks without any contact was wearing on her mother's soul. In spite of the pain and suffering his actions had caused, Jarrod was still her son and she prayed every night that he was safe somewhere.

Father Nicholls' letter both relieved and worried her. Jarrod had obviously been well enough to send the letter and she was relieved that he apparently survived his brother's wrath. But the amount on the bank draft had her worried. Victoria didn't know how much Jarrod had in his personal account, but a donation usually ended in a round number, not the precise amount of dollars and cents on the draft. She knew Jarrod would know down to the penny what his balance was and surmised that he had given it all to Father Nicholls and the orphanage. As Victoria wrestled with what that might mean, she heard a voice call from inside the house.

"Mother? Mother, where are you? Oh, there you are," Audra exclaimed, a worried crease marring her normally smooth brow. "Mother, I just ran into Mike Adams, the new lawyer in town. He was asking how Jarrod was. Apparently, he got a letter today from Jarrod, asking Mike to take over all his clients. Oh, Mother, what does it mean?"

Victoria took a deep breath, willing the tears to stay away. "It means, Audra, your brother isn't planning on coming back."

She thought about her eldest son, how much he had always taken his position as head of the family to heart and realized the blame for the night's events Jarrod would be placing on himself was equal to or greater than any blame they assigned to him. Victoria found herself hoping that, no matter where he was, and in spite of what he'd done, her son would remember how much she'd always love him and that someday he'd feel like he could come home.


	4. Chapter 4

Rain fell relentlessly from the sky and Jarrod rolled himself tighter into his bedroll, trying to keep somewhat dry. Maybe he should have taken Mrs. Murray up on her offer to stay a few more days, but with five mouths to feed and her husband dead this past year, he wasn't about to take advantage of the family's meager resources.

In spite of the cold and damp, Jarrod felt a bit of comfort. When he rode past the place about a week ago and saw the young widow struggling with a broken wagon wheel, Jarrod had stopped to offer his assistance. A wry smile crossed his lips as he recalled the look Emma Murray had given him. On the trail for at least a week without a chance for a proper bath and clean clothes, he had certainly looked the part of a shiftless saddle tramp. But something of the dashing Jarrod Barkley must have come through the grime and trail dust and she'd accepted his help in repairing the wagon. Seeing the state of disrepair of the house and outbuildings, Jarrod felt compelled to offer further help in making necessary repairs and he'd spend the last week fixing up the barn and house in exchange for room and board. He left the place looking almost as good as new, working hard enough to fall into a deep, almost dreamless sleep at the end of each day.

Almost dreamless, but not quite. Jarrod shivered as a trickle of water slid down his neck, the chill only partly to blame for his involuntary shudder. He tried to get comfortable on the cold, damp ground, wanting and at the same time dreading for sleep to come. Jarrod closed his eyes and, as they had every night for the past month, the images of that night came back to haunt him.

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_Everything was going smoothly, with the minor exception of Nick and Heath's unexpected arrival. But Macklin had taken it in stride, easily incorporating General Alderson's former aide into the mock trial. Jarrod wanted to take his brothers aside, let them in on what was happening, but there was no chance without tipping off the general. So the scenario played out as expected and Jarrod felt assured of a satisfactory conclusion, that was, until Heath took it upon himself to act and escaped the house by crashing through the window at the end of the parlour._

"_Boreau, Donnelly, after him!" Macklin ordered. Turning to Nick, he gestured with his pistol. "You, get over there." Nick slowly moved to stand beside the general, his gait and posture wary. "Tanner, get some rope, I want these two tied. As for you, counsellor," Macklin gave Jarrod a measured look, "I hope you won't be as foolish as your brother. I'm a very good shot." He turned his attention back to Nick and the general. "All right, let's proceed."_

_Jarrod watched as Tanner brought some rope and General Alderson's hands were tied behind his back. He saw the stony expression on Nick's face, the hardness almost masking the fear in his brother's expressive hazel eyes. The situation was starting to get out of hand, the government's tidy little plot was taking a dangerous turn and Jarrod found himself wishing he'd never agreed to the plan in the first place._

"_Mr. Barkley, your brother won't get far. As soon as we catch him, we'll proceed with justice." Macklin pulled the knot tight, making sure Nick was securely bound. _

_A gunshot echoed from outside and all heads turned at the sound. The sick feeling grew in Jarrod's stomach, the feeling that had started with Heath's leap through the window. He suddenly wanted to call the whole thing off, but it was too late for that now, he just had to trust that no one had been seriously injured._

"_Everything all right down there? I thought I heard a gunshot outside."_

_Jarrod looked to the top of the stairs to see Curtis with his mother and sister. He saw the worry and fear on both women's faces and vowed he'd find some way to make it up to his whole family when the ruse was finally over._

_Then the front door opened and Jarrod's heart stopped when he saw Boreau and Donnelly enter, supporting a limp body between them._

"_Heath," he whispered, staring in horror at the blood covering the front of his youngest brother's shirt, and his utterance was echoed by a louder, more distraught, "Heath!" from the top of the stairs. Jarrod turned just in time to see his mother stumble and fall down the long staircase to lie motionless at the bottom._

"_Let go of me!" Nick yelled, struggling to get free, struggling against the arms that held him back._

"_Donnelly, ride for town and get the doctor," Macklin ordered, holding onto Nick grimly as Jarrod rushed to his mother's side, relieved to find her still breathing. Donnelly and Boreau carried the semi-conscious Heath to the settee and set him down carefully before the taller man quickly left to comply with his boss's order. "Curtis," Macklin continued, "see what you can do for them."_

_The man with the limp nodded, coming down the stairs with Audra at his heels, quickly going to Heath's side, ripping his already torn shirt and applying pressure to the wound._

_Jarrod caught Macklin's eye, about to call an end to the charade when the other man shook his head slightly. "We're doing everything we can for them, counsellor, there's nothing more that can be done until the doctor comes. Curtis and your sister will take care of them. We have unfinished business to attend to." He turned to Alderson. "It's time."_

_Jarrod gazed down at the still form of his mother and into the grief-stricken blue eyes of his sister who was kneeling beside him, then over to his youngest brother being tended in the parlour. Nick had stopped struggling, but raw anguish was all over his face. _

How did I let things get this far?No one was supposed to get hurt! _Jarrod thought to himself in torment as the crying, begging Alderson was dragged out the door_. _He knew Macklin was right about the doctor but Jarrod's heart cried out as he followed the federal officer and Nick, his brother's head held high in spite of what had happened, what he believed was about to happen. _It wasn't supposed to turn out this way!

.

Jarrod kept his eyes closed tightly, telling himself the wetness on his cheeks was only from the rain. He'd never forget the look on Nick's face when his brother found out it had all been a set-up, the look of betrayal that had slowly transformed into a mask of pure hatred. Nick hadn't hit him immediately; instead, he rushed back into the house to find out the status of his mother and youngest brother first. It was only later, after Dr. Merar arrived, that Nick finally laid into him, his fists meting out the punishment Jarrod knew he so justly deserved.

The not knowing what happened with Heath and their mother was nothing less than torture on Jarrod's soul. Every time he passed through a town big enough to boast a telegraph office, Jarrod desperately wanted to send a wire, needing to know how everything was at home. But who would he send it to? Addressing it the sheriff, Dr. Merar or anyone else was out of the question; this was about his family and he'd never been one to take his personal problems to others. And if he sent a message to Nick or Audra… well, he might get a reply, but if they decided not to respond, Jarrod wasn't sure if that would be worse than just not knowing. He felt like a coward, but each time he rode past without stopping.

A strangled sob escaped from his throat and the dark-haired man curled up tightly, not trying anymore to curtail his anguish. He remembered when Nick was born, his solemn four-year-old's promise to always be there to protect his little brother, and again at Audra's birth and Heath's arrival into the family, the responsibility of being the oldest a duty he was happy to accept. The further promise he'd made seven years ago echoed back to him and Jarrod wrapped his arms more securely around his body before he fell apart.

_They're my responsibility now,_ he remembered saying on his knees in front of his father's freshly dug grave. _I'll look after them for you, Father. Our family comes first and I promise I'll be there for them. I'll make you proud, Father. I swear I won't fail you._

But he had failed, breaking his promise to protect his family and putting them in jeopardy by his own actions. Alone in the dark, Jarrod's heartache escaped, silent sobs wracking his body until he finally fell into slumber, drained and exhausted.


	5. Chapter 5

Nick pressed his fingers against his forehead, trying to relieve some of the dull ache behind his eyes. The words on the page swam in front of him, and he couldn't get them to cooperate no matter how hard he tried. The big rancher groaned in frustration. He'd been trapped inside, going over contracts all day when he should have been outside, taking care of his beloved ranch alongside Heath.

"This is a working ranch, dammit," he grumbled, and made another attempt to tackle the paperwork.

"Hey, there, big brother," came the slow drawl from the doorway. "Asked Silas to bring in some coffee. Sure looks like you need it."

"Gotta get these damn contracts out of the way. The army wants horses, the army wants beef, all on their terms, not ours." Nick leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. "Didn't know how much paperwork there is to running this ranch."

Heath settled on the edge of the desk as Silas came in with the silver coffee service.

"Just made a fresh pot, Mr. Nick, and I brought some sandwiches too."

"Thanks Silas. Just set them down anywhere," Nick said with a wave of his hand. The houseman set the tray down on a side table and left with a smile for the two brothers.

"Every time I think I've got a handle on things, something new comes up," Nick groused. Heath picked up one of the papers and skimmed it before setting it back down.

"Maybe we need to hire someone to help out," Heath suggested. "A bookkeeper, another lawyer…"

Nick slammed his hand down on the desk, sending papers flying. "Dammit, Heath, we don't need another lawyer! We just need…" He trailed off, resting his head heavily in his hands.

"We just need Jarrod back," Heath finished quietly.

Nick stood abruptly and paced over to the fireplace. "Was I too hard on him, Heath? Kicking him off the ranch like that, out of our lives?"

Heath shrugged. "I dunno, Nick. He let us go through hell, put Mother and Audra's lives in danger. A smart man like Jarrod should've known something could go wrong, but he went through with it anyway. Kinda makes it hard to forgive."

"Yeah." Nick placed his hand on the mantel and just stared for a few moments, uncharacteristically quiet. He thought back to the last time he saw Jarrod before he'd thrown his big brother off the ranch, standing in front of him, bruised and bloody from the beating he'd taken at Nick's hands. He remembered the last words he said, how the family would be better off without Jarrod, how he'd kill him if he ever saw him again. It wasn't until much later that Nick realized Jarrod hadn't thrown a single punch, hadn't even tried to block his brother's blows.

Over the past two months or so, his anger had lessened, with Mother and Heath recovered from their injuries and the sheer horror of that night fading into memory. Nick was realizing how much he depended on his older brother, how much he looked to Jarrod to be a confidant and a voice of reason. Sure, it was Heath who he worked side by side with, Heath who always had his back and knew what he was thinking before he even thought it, but Jarrod was still his big brother, the one who soothed his nightmares when he was little, covered for him when he got in trouble, supported him wholeheartedly when he was thrust into the daunting task of running the ranch alone after their father died, and always standing by him with unswerving loyalty.

Heath's voice broke through his thoughts. "Nick, if the government had approached you and told you 'Here's a man responsible for wiping out an innocent town, a man we know helped plan the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. We know it but can't prove it without your help.' If they came to you, Nick, and said that, what would you do?"

Heath's question was one the dark rancher had asked himself more than once over the past couple months and Nick was silent for another minute before shaking his head. "Probably the same thing, Heath. May heaven forgive me, but I would have done the same as Jarrod."

Heath gave Nick a small, lopsided grin. "Reckon I would too, Nick. And I'd probably have as hard a time forgiving myself for what happened as we are Jarrod."

Nick sighed and dragged a hand across his face. "I miss Pappy, Heath. If you'd asked a month ago, I might not've said it, but I just want my big brother to come home."

Heath walked over and squeezed Nick's shoulder. "I know, Nick. We all do."

"Nick! Heath! Audra!" The two cowboys looked at each other at the excited yelling coming from the other room and left the library to see their mother's beaming face as she waved a letter in the air.

Nick leaned on the balustrade. "Now, Mother, what was that I've been hearing all these years about hollering in the house?" He grinned widely as she made a shushing motion.

Audra came skipping down the stairs. "What is it, Mother? What's happened?"

"We just got a letter!" the normally poised matriarch said excitedly.

"Boy howdy, a letter," Heath repeated with a grin, "better tell the papers."

Victoria cuffed him lightly on the arm as she handed him the envelope. "Just look who it's from."

Heath immediately recognized the handwriting. "It's from Jarrod."

The silence was almost deafening.

"Well, don't just stand there staring, boy, open it and read it!" Nick finally shouted.

Heath grinned as he ripped open the envelope, the rest of the family crowding around.

_" Dear family,_

_I do not know if you will actually read this or just throw it in the fireplace after you find out who it is from. But I had to write, even if only to try to soothe my own heart._

_There are no words to express the regret and sorrow I feel for what I put my family through, and not for the first time, I have now realized. My eyes have finally been opened to the callous disregard I have treated you all with, not the love and consideration you so deserve._

_My only hope is that someday you will believe me when I say I would do anything if I could take back the hurt I have caused and that I love each and every one of you dearly. Maybe someday you will be able to forgive me and maybe someday I will even forgive myself._

_You are never far from my thoughts and my heart._

_Jarrod "_

Audra started to sniffle and Nick put strong arms around her. "C'mon, honey, at least we know he's okay."

"But he just sounds so lonely, Nick," Audra sobbed, face buried in Nick's shoulder. "It's like he thinks we don't love him anymore."

Victoria gazed at the letter she'd taken from Heath. "And have we given him any reason to?" she asked sadly. "We haven't tried to contact him, to find him…"

Heath wrapped an arm around her. "Well, we can start with the letter. Where was it sent from?"

Victoria flipped the envelope over and squinted at the smudged postmark. "I think it says somewhere in Colorado."

Nick grabbed the paper out of her hands. "I'm gonna hire someone to start looking. We'll find Pappy and let him know in no uncertain terms that no matter what kind of fool stunts he's pulled, he's our brother and we love him and need him back and there's no truer fact than that."


	6. Chapter 6

Jarrod accepted the small stack of bills and shook the man's hand. "Thanks again, Mr. Camden."

"Are you sure you won't stay on, Jarrod?" the burly rancher asked. "I could use a good hand like you back home. You know your stuff, the men like and respect you and, well, my foreman's getting old. I think with little seasoning, you might be the right man for the job."

Jarrod smiled at the compliment, imagining the looks on his brothers' faces if they heard the praise given as a result of the five-week cattle drive he'd just completed. Then the smile vanished as his gut twisted at the thought of his family. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Camden, but no thank you."

"Well, if you're ever back down Amarillo way, be sure to look me up." Camden gave Jarrod a hearty slap on the back. "Now come on, let's go get us something to cut this dust."

Leaving Jingo with the other horses of the remuda, Jarrod followed his employer to the saloon where the rest of the crew was assembling for the traditional post-drive celebration. Jarrod enjoyed the men's camaraderie, but it was tinged with regret at the thought he'd never experience the same again with his brothers. The whiskey flowed freely, the girls and the cards distributed their favors and Jarrod threw himself into the evening with a forced merriment, trying to rid himself of the loneliness that was his constant companion. They stayed until the wee hours of the morning when the bartender was ready to close up and had to chase the rowdy cowboys out by threatening to call the sheriff.

Jarrod lay on the bed in the darkness of his hotel room. He was bone-tired, but in spite of the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, it was an honest tired, borne of the hard physical work he'd been doing. He had briefly considered hanging his shingle in another town, but the memory of what the quest for justice had cost prevented him from wanting to practice law again. So he drifted, not using his real name, earning enough to live on over the past couple months with whatever jobs he could find. When he heard that a nearby rancher was hiring hands for a cattle drive, Jarrod signed on, hoping his time behind a desk hadn't made him too soft like his brothers always joked. He wasn't sure he'd survive the first few days, but hadn't taken long to get back into the rhythm of working cattle and the 'lily-white hands' his brothers often made fun of soon grew rough and calloused, remembering all they'd learned at his father's side.

But it was emotionally gruelling as well, the work reminding him of home and the strong bond he had with his brothers. The bond he had until he destroyed it in his hard-headed pursuit of justice, no matter what the cost.

Throwing off the covers, Jarrod swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting still for a moment, head bowed with sorrow and regret. He'd written to his family while on the drive, writing and re-writing until he finally got the courage to send the letter. Jarrod didn't know if they'd even read it, but he felt he owed them something.

He crossed the room and turned up the lamp. Reaching into the pocket of his vest, Jarrod pulled out a scrap of paper and unfolded it carefully as he sat back down. He looked at the picture of his family he'd taken from the newspaper, helping to dedicate the new roof at the orphanage, the date at the top of the page almost a month ago. Touching the faces of his mother, sister and brothers tenderly, Jarrod closed his eyes, experiencing the same wash of relief he felt when he first saw the picture in a copy of the _Stockton Evening Mail_ at one of the stops on the cattle drive. They were all there; they were all alive and well. His family hadn't paid the ultimate price for the inexcusable horrors he put them through. Placing the precious image beside him, Jarrod put his head in his hands as the tears started to fall.

.

Jarrod allowed himself the luxury of sleeping in the next morning, the dull pounding in his head from the large quantity of whiskey he imbibed the previous night only intensifying his desire to stay in the soft, warm bed.

He eventually did get up when his stomach started rumbling and searched out breakfast and a large pot of coffee. Sitting in the café, Jarrod perused the local paper, catching up on what had been happening while he'd been virtually cut off from the world on the trail drive and wondering what he should do next. He considered going home, but quickly discarded that idea. He remembered Nick's threat that he'd kill him the next time he saw him, but Jarrod wasn't really worried about that. He was worried that they couldn't forgive the unforgivable and his family's rejection was something he didn't think he could face again. No, better just to stay away. He thought about Camden's offer to come work on his ranch, but even though ranching would always be in his blood, Jarrod couldn't do it. It reminded him too much of what he used to have.

Jarrod tossed some coins on the table to pay for his breakfast, leaving the paper for the next patron and sparing a smile for the pretty serving girl. He decided to go check on Jingo and take a walk through town. He'd never had the excuse to be in one of the big cattle towns like Cheyenne before and was curious about the place he'd heard dubbed "the Holy City of the Cow". On his way to where the horses were being kept, he counted at least three saloons or gambling parlours for every other business on the street. Shaking his head, he thought how much Nick would love it and just as quickly pushed the thought from his mind.

When he reached the corral where Jingo was housed with Camden's remuda, the sorrel spotted him and made his way over to the fence. Jarrod reached up and scratched that place behind the ears he knew his mount liked and Jingo gave a sigh of contentment and leaned into him. Jarrod chuckled.

"What do you say, Jingo old boy? Shall we move on or stay put for a couple days?" Jingo's eyes were half closed and Jarrod chuckled again. "Well, I guess you deserve one day off at least." He took the lump of sugar he'd saved from breakfast out of his pocket and the sorrel accepted it happily. Jarrod gave him another scratch and a pat on the neck and promised he'd be by later.

After wandering around the town for another half an hour and finding really nothing to recommend it, Jarrod decided he could use a little down time as well and picked a bench outside of what seemed to be one of the quieter saloons. He stretched his legs out in front of him and tipped his hat over his face, trying not to let his thoughts disturb him, just allowing the sounds of so-called civilization wash over him.

"Da, there is no bleeding way I'm travelling with that lot! I can't believe you're wanting those sorts of people around your daughter! Mam'll be rolling her grave, I tell you!"

"Now, Sioned…"

"Don't you 'now Sioned' me! You drag me all over this blooming country and now you're wanting me to be spending a month with the likes of them? No, Da, this is where I put my foot down. If you insist on heading to that godforsaken place, you'll just have to be finding another way to do it or you'll be leaving me behind!"

Jarrod heard the swish of skirts followed by footsteps stomping down the sidewalk. When he felt someone trip over his outstretched legs and heard the thud as the pedestrian hit the wooden boards, he got up quickly and extended a hand to help. The woman just glared at the proffered hand, getting to her own feet and quickly smoothing her raven-black curls and brushing the dust from her skirts, brown eyes sparking as her hand encountered a small tear in the fabric.

"Now look what you've gone and made me do!" she snapped at an older man standing on the street near a loaded wagon. The man looked resigned to the temper displayed before him, but squared his shoulders.

"Sioned, that's enough," he scolded. "Now apologize to the gentleman for tripping over him."

"As if one would be finding a gentleman in a place like this," the young woman huffed under her breath, causing Jarrod to smile, but she turned to him anyway. "I'm sorry, sir. I must not have been watching where I was going." The look on her face said she wasn't really sorry at all.

Jarrod tipped his hat politely, giving her a charming smile as he did so. "Apology accepted, miss." He turned to go, but was pulled back by the man's call of, "Young man, you look like a capable sort. Could I offer you a business proposition?"

"Da, you can't be propositioning every ruffian we meet on the street-"

"Now, lass, I've had about enough of this. What would your sainted mother be thinking about the disrespect you've been showing your dear old father?"

Sioned opened her mouth, but obviously thought better of what she was going to say and shut it again. But the glare she gave her father and Jarrod was unabated.

"My daughter has a wee bit of a temper," he continued apologetically. "Sometimes I think she was born in Ireland rather than of good, solid Welsh stock."

"You have my sympathies, sir," Jarrod said with what he thought was a disarming wink toward the lady in question and was just glad 'looking daggers' at someone couldn't be taken literally.

"My name is Rhys Llewellyn and this is my daughter, Sioned." The man with the salt and pepper hair extended a hand and Jarrod stepped onto the street to grasp it. "We are finding ourselves in a bit of a predicament."

"So I gathered," Jarrod responded smoothly, taking in the loaded wagon hitched to two large, placid horses as Llewellyn continued.

"My daughter and I heard of gold to be found in the Black Hills and have decided to go and seek our fortune." A loud "Hmph" was heard from the aforementioned daughter. Llewellyn continued, ignoring the interruption. "It seems my Sioned is not taken with the sorts of individuals that we were to accompany on our journey."

"And what respectable man would ask his daughter to travel with the likes of those?" Sioned was unable to keep her peace any longer. "Prospectors, aye, but the gamblers and the…well, there's just not a polite word to describe women of their type." She gave Jarrod a dark look as if he had frequent and intimate knowledge of the type of women she was talking about. " 'Needed commodities for the town of Deadwood' my -" She cut herself off abruptly, blushing at the unladylike word that had almost come out of her mouth.

Jarrod just crossed his arms and leaned back against a post, enjoying the sight. Sioned Llewellyn was a striking woman and the rosy flush to her cheeks made her all that more appealing, but Jarrod was glad her temper was directed at him only in an oblique fashion. He was sure he didn't want to experience her full wrath.

He'd heard of the gold find in the Black Hills, the surge of prospectors and fortune seekers was a hot topic in political circles as the land had been previously granted to the Lakota people by the United States government. From what he'd heard of the town of Deadwood, it was one of the most dangerous and uncivilized places in the country and he was mildly surprised any man would want to expose his daughter to that sort of environment. But he knew the lure of gold was strong, strong enough to overcome some people's common sense.

"So we've a need for a new escort to get us from Cheyenne to Deadwood. A trustworthy, capable fellow, someone like yourself." Llewellyn gave Jarrod an expectant look.

"Now, Da, you have no idea if this is a trustworthy man," Sioned declared. She strode up to Jarrod and with her still standing on the sidewalk and him on the street, they were almost at eye level. "Well, are you trustworthy?" Her hands were on her hips and Jarrod suddenly felt like a hostile witness. He considered her question. A few months ago, his reply would have been an automatic 'yes', but now…

"I'd say I'm a man of my word," he told her and her eyes narrowed at his indirect response.

"Do you drink?"

"On occasion."

"Do you smoke?"

"I enjoy a good cigar as much as the next man."

"Do you gamble?"

"From time to time."

"Do you consort with loose women?"

"I don't make a habit of it."

In spite of his discomfort at her original question, Jarrod was growing more amused and did his best to keep from laughing, sure he would incur more of her wrath if he did. He admired a man who raised such a feisty daughter and in spite of his better judgement, was starting to consider taking Llewellyn up on his offer.

"I'm not a professional guide," he advised before Sioned could come up with another question, "but I've been on a few trails and I know how to use this." He indicated the Colt strapped to his thigh. "I don't really have any plans at the moment and would be glad to accompany you. But I wouldn't advise hiring me on my word alone and without checking out your options. As your lovely daughter has so aptly pointed out," and his blue eyes twinkled at her in spite of the glare she aimed in his direction, "you don't know anything about me. I'm sure Aaron Camden down at the stockyards would be happy to give you a character reference and if you're still interested, I'm staying at Dyer's Hotel for the next day or so."

"And who should I ask about?"

"Thomas. Jarrod Thomas."


	7. Chapter 7

Jarrod shook his head wryly as he tightened Jingo's girth. The illegal gold rush town of Deadwood in the Black Hills was not a destination he ever imagined himself travelling to. He had second thoughts, then third after listening to the talk in the saloons the previous day. He paid special attention to any mention of the area and since Cheyenne was a major jumping off point for those heading in search of gold, he heard a lot. Ironically, the descriptions of the unsavoury town that made him want to give the place a wide berth only reinforced his decision to accompany the Llewellyns on their journey northward. The road from Cheyenne to Deadwood was a rough one, with harrowing tales of outlaws and attacks by Sioux Indians who wanted the white man off their lands. Jarrod knew he was proficient enough with a pistol and rifle to give Llewellyn and his daughter some degree of protection but three of them alone would be a tempting target. When Rhys Llewellyn sought him out at his hotel, Jarrod tried to convince the man that they should join up with a larger expedition like Utter's, even though the company might not be ideal. But Llewellyn out-stubborned the stubborn Barkley and Jarrod finally agreed to go along.

Jarrod checked Jingo's saddle again, made sure his bedroll and rifle were securely fastened and double-checked to make sure his Colt was loaded before swinging into the saddle. He maneuvered his mount through town to the outskirts where he had arranged to meet his new employers.

He trotted up to the wagon and from the long-suffering expression on Llewellyn's face, guessed the man had been on the receiving end of his daughter's sharp tongue yet again. He tipped his hat politely.

"Good morning, Mr. Llewellyn, Miss Llewellyn."

"Good morning, Mr. Thomas." Sioned's tone was a bit frosty, but Jarrod gave her a warm smile nonetheless.

"Yes, good morning, Mr. Thomas," Llewellyn said cheerily. "We've filled the water barrels, double-checked the foodstuffs and we have more than plenty for everyone."

"Then I guess we're ready to head out. And I insist you call me Jarrod." He'd dropped the Barkley, not wanting to deal with the questions that would come with someone recognizing it and not feeling like he worthy of using the name anymore, but hearing his middle name, Thomas, as a surname still didn't quite feel natural.

"Jarrod it is. And I'm Rhys."

Sioned didn't offer permission to use her first name, not that Jarrod expected her to. He shook his head, wondering if the raven-haired woman would ever warm up to him.

Rhys clucked to the horses and the large beasts set off obediently down the road. Jarrod eyed them admiringly.

"That's quite the team you have there," he complimented. "Percherons, unless I miss my guess."

"You know your horseflesh, Jarrod," Rhys confirmed. "Best working horses I've ever seen. Bought them for a song from some poor chap who decided to head back east by train." He glanced over at Jarrod's mount. "Yours is a mighty fine specimen himself. Wide chest, must have lots of staying power."

Jarrod patted Jingo on the neck. "He's been a good friend."

They travelled quietly for a few miles, leaving the dusty town behind before Rhys spoke up. "So how is it you're being out here by yourself? A young lad such as you should be having a family and settled down."

Jarrod's back stiffened and his face must have betrayed what he was feeling because Sioned spoke up suddenly. "Now, Da, that's not the type of question you should be asking." Jarrod shot her a grateful glance and was rewarded with a hint of a smile.

"Ah," Rhys said, waving his hand dismissively. "I know, don't be asking a man about himself or his past. But without asking, how does a body ever get to know someone?" He looked at Jarrod, who took a moment to compose himself before answering.

"I had a family," he finally admitted, "and maybe I'll settle down sometime. But for now, I guess I'll just take whatever comes my way." Jarrod hoped that was enough to satisfy the man's curiosity.

"Cowboy?" Rhys asked, still interested.

Jarrod nodded curtly, not elaborating. Luckily, this opened the way for Rhys to do the talking.

"Was a farmer myself this past year," the Welshman volunteered. "We had a nice little place in Nebraska until the locusts ate everything." He laughed. "I don't think the Lord meant me to be a farmer anyway. I heard about the gold in the Black Hills one day and Sioned and I decided to try our hands at working something inedible."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow at the young woman, a bit surprised that the opinionated Sioned really wanted to be a gold prospector, and she just shrugged and gave a meaningful look at her father, as if to say, '_He's my da, what else would you expect me to do?'_

"Could be using a good, strong back like yours to work a gold claim," Rhys observed. "How about it, Jarrod? Stick around for a while, get rich? We might be making a good team."

Jarrod smiled and shook his head. He didn't think he was cut out to be a prospector, but he appreciated the offer. "If I decide to stay and do some mining, I'll take you up on that, Rhys."

The rest of the day passed uneventfully and they made good time. Jarrod treated Sioned with his customary courtesy and respect and her aloof demeanor seemed to thaw somewhat. Things were equally pleasant when they stopped to make camp that night, Jarrod offering to tend the horses while Rhys started a fire and fetched water from a nearby stream. Sioned insisted that she'd do the cooking, telling the men she didn't trust them not to poison everyone. Having had to eat his own cooking over the past couple months, Jarrod wasn't in a hurry to argue and thought dinner was one of the best meals he'd tasted in quite a while. He made a point of telling her so and was gratified by the genuine smile she gave him.

Later that evening, with the moon shining full on the plains and his companions seemingly asleep, Jarrod pulled out the newspaper clipping and gazed at the faces it held.

"Your family?"

Jarrod started and turned around. "Miss Llewellyn. I thought you were asleep." He hoped she hadn't noticed the tear he quickly wiped away.

"Too many things happening, I suppose." She sat beside Jarrod and touched the image of the beautiful silver haired lady. "Your mam?"

"Yes."

Sioned looked at the picture for a moment. "You have a lovely family."

Jarrod nodded, not sure if he could trust his voice and carefully folded the paper and tucked it away. He hoped Sioned wouldn't ask any more questions.

They sat silently for a moment before she spoke up. "I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier, Mr. Thomas," Sioned said, eyes apologetic. "I judged you unfairly. You have been nothing less than a gentleman, in spite of the way I've been acting towards you."

"Apology accepted, and please, call me Jarrod."

"Ah, my Mam would cringe at me using a man's name so familiarly after we've just met." Her expression softened at Jarrod's disarming smile. "Jarrod it is. And you may call me Sioned."

"It's a lovely name." Jarrod leaned back against the saddle he was using as a backrest. "What does it mean?"

"And why is everyone who encounters an unfamiliar name asking the same question?" she wondered aloud with a teasing glance. "But I suppose I'd better be telling you, or you won't sleep for wondering. It means gracious." Jarrod's smile quirked and he raised his eyebrows. "I did apologize," she reminded him.

"And very graciously, too." They shared another smile and after a few moments of companionable silence, Jarrod asked, "So tell me, Sioned, what exactly are you doing out here? From what I've heard about where we're going, it doesn't sound like a particularly appealing destination."

Sioned nodded her agreement and shrugged. "My Da owned the Black Lion in Pontrhydfendigaid back home in Wales, the prettiest little village anyone ever laid eyes on." Sioned laughed at Jarrod's expression when she said the name of her hometown. "Most English get that same look on their face when they hear a good Welsh name."

Sioned's face then grew somber. "When Mam died, Da's heart just went out of everything. Then one day he came to me saying, 'Sioned, lass, what do you think about America?' There was life back in his eyes so I said, 'Why not?' We sold the tavern and booked passage right after." Her soft brown eyes met Jarrod's blue. "He has a dream in his heart again, Jarrod. Who am I to be crushing it?"

Jarrod thought that Sioned was just as pretty in a reflective mood as she was when she was spitting fire. "I hope he realizes just how lucky he is to have you," he said quietly.

"Oh, aye," Sioned laughed. "I'm reminding him of that at least twice a day. And with that, I suppose we should be getting some sleep. It's a long trail we have ahead of us." She rose to her feet. "Goodnight, Jarrod."

"Goodnight, Sioned." Jarrod watched as she crawled into her bedroll before lying down and pulling over his own blankets. He gazed at the brilliant heavens above and thought of his mother, his brothers and his sister and wondered if there was any chance they were thinking of him too.

.

.

.

_A/N: The Black Lion pub in Pontrhydfendigaid is a real place, but the Llewellyn's are completely fictional. And for some reason, this site won't let me put in the name of the other town, the longest town name in the word, so I had to edit a bit of the story out  
_


	8. Chapter 8

Sioned sighed as she watched the sere grasses of the plains go by. They were a far cry from the verdant green hills and valleys of Wales. She felt a pang of homesickness; not the first one she'd experienced since coming this country and she guessed it wouldn't be the last. Sioned glanced over at her father, hearing a faint humming and saw the look of contentment on his face as he held the reins of the team. If it kept a smile on his face, it was all worth it. But, if she had to be honest, even though they saw a number of other travellers, a few more days of trekking through these lonely, monotonous plains might drive her raving mad.

Sioned turned to the man on the bright sorrel riding beside the wagon. "Jarrod, have you any idea when we'll be getting off these plains?"

Jarrod pushed his hat back on his forehead, turning slightly and Sioned marvelled, not for the first time, just how bright a blue his eyes were. "Do you see that dark smudge on the horizon?" Sioned looked into the distance in front of them and nodded. "Unless I miss my guess, those are the Black Hills. Maybe four or five days if the weather holds. What, tired of my company already?" Jarrod gave her a wink, and then nudged his horse to canter a little ahead of them, not waiting for her reply.

Sioned smiled and shook her head slightly. Their travelling companion was becoming someone she could readily call 'friend'. He was more genteel and refined than most of the uncouth men they'd ran across since coming west, but that didn't mean she thought he was soft. He sat easily in the saddle, his posture as straight at the end of the long day as it was at the start, he took care of the camp chores briskly and efficiently and she'd seen his gentle sense of humour on more than one occasion. Sioned was glad she'd made her peace with Jarrod that first night on the trail.

"Now, I don't think you were ever saying sorry to your old da for your opposition to asking young Mr. Thomas to come along on this trip."

Sioned looked to her father, whose face sported a wide grin. "No, Da, I guess I didn't. My sincerest regrets for maligning your ability as a judge of character. I was just being upset at the type of people Mr. Utter was taking along on his expedition and I let that colour my reason." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "And don't be worrying, I've already said my apologies to Jarrod."

"He seems like a good man."

"Aye, that he does." Sioned didn't say anything further, suspecting what was on her father's mind. She was glad he wasn't prone toward matchmaking; Sioned was quite capable of finding her own suitors if and when she was so inclined.

Jarrod Thomas did intrigue her. He was a fine figure of a man, tall, strong, with those blue eyes and dashing smile that were sure to have set many maidens' hearts aflutter, including, Sioned had to admit, her own. He was warm and unfailingly charming, but there was something else. The something she sensed he was hiding or running from. Jarrod didn't give off the impression that he was a wanted man, though she could be wrong. Many dishonest men were smooth and charismatic to better draw people into their schemes, but Sioned prided herself on being a good judge of people herself and that notion just didn't seem right.

No, what Jarrod was hiding was something to do with his family, of that she was sure. She'd seen him look at that picture from the newspaper several times and each time saw the unmistakable sorrow on his face. Sioned wished she could help, but even after knowing him for only a handful of days, recognized their travelling companion was a very private man and she just hoped he could come to terms with whatever was troubling him on his own.

.

"Now you do realize playing cards is an essential skill out here."

Sioned frowned as Jarrod laid out various arrangements of cards. "Just like gamblers are essential citizens for the town we're heading to?" she asked cynically.

Jarrod chuckled. "If nothing else, it's a good way to pass the time and it doesn't hurt to be able to tell a straight from a full house. Now, here's the order of poker hands from lowest to highest." Sioned studied the cards and soon had the various hands and rankings memorized. They collected their stacks of pebbles to use for betting and soon the game was being played in earnest. Sioned enjoyed the battle of wits, looking for telltale signs to tell her the strength of Jarrod's hand. But Sioned's pile of pebbles grew smaller as her opponent's blue eyes glimmered mischievously and a smile hovered around the corner of his mouth whether he had a pair or four of a kind.

Jarrod put down his cards as he heard the horses stamp and whinny nervously. "I wonder what that's about?"

Rhys got to his feet from where he was observing the card game. "I think I'll take a look."

There was something else in the air, but Sioned couldn't put her finger on it right away. Concentrating, she finally figured out what was making her uneasy. "It's too quiet."

"And it's getting dark too quickly." Jarrod stood as a brisk wind whipped up. "That looks like a storm coming up fast. Sioned, you check that the canvas on the wagon is tied down tight. I'm going to help your father with the horses."

Sioned checked the ropes fastening the canvas cover over their supplies as Jarrod and Rhys tried to calm the skittish horses, making sure they were picketed securely. Suddenly, lightning lit up the darkened sky and a peal of thunder boomed and echoed across the plains. The normally good-natured Jingo reared up in alarm, a front hoof lashing out, delivering a glancing blow to Jarrod's head. He crumpled to the ground and was still, the hooves of his horse dancing dangerously close to his inert form.

Sioned's heart froze. "Jarrod!" she cried and started to rush toward him, only to be stopped by her father's hand on her arm.

"Quietly and calmly, lass," he warned. "It won't do to have you injured by those flying hooves as well."

They both approached quietly, not wanting to spook the already nervous horse. Sioned spoke soothingly to Jingo as Rhys grabbed Jarrod under his arms and dragged him to the safety of the wagon.

"Da, grab the bedrolls," Sioned instructed, regaining her composure as heavy rain began to pelt the earth. "We'll not be getting a fire going in this wind and we need to keep him warm." Rhys hurried to do her bidding as Sioned pulled off the apron she was wearing and ripped strips from it, placing pressure over the gash on Jarrod's temple to staunch the bleeding, trying not to dwell on how serious the wound could be.

At least one thing could be said for the wind whipping around them, the rain was falling slantwise and it was relatively dry there under the edge of the wagon. She felt a bit sorry for the horses, but there was no shelter to be had in this wide expanse and all they could do was put their heads down and huddle together with their tails toward the stinging rain. Another flash of lightning and another roll of thunder, but this time, the horses just shifted restlessly. She looked back at the fallen man in front of her. The damage had already been done.

Rhys scurried to the relative shelter of the wagon with the bedrolls under his arm, still wrapped in their waterproof canvas. Sioned stretched one out and Jarrod stirred and groaned as they rolled him onto it.

Rhys patted his cheek lightly. "Come on now, lad, wake up and let us know you're still with us."

Sioned smoothed his forehead, sighing with relief as Jarrod's eyes opened slightly. "There we are. Can you remember what happened?" she asked, wanting to find out just how disoriented the blow to the head had left him.

Jarrod's brow furrowed in pain. "A storm… I was… kicked… by my horse." His reply was faint.

"And are you remembering your name?"

Another pause. "Jar…rod… Jarrod…Bar…kley." He fell unconscious again.

Sioned and her father looked at each other at the unexpected revelation.

"Well, we knew he was leaving something from his past behind," Rhys observed.

Sioned brushed back the dark hair. "We all have something we're leaving behind, Da. And Thomas or Barkley, I do believe he's a good man."

The fierce storm only lasted another couple hours and the waning moon came out, bathing the rain-drenched prairie in its faint light. Jarrod woke a few more times, each time a bit more lucid than the one before and when asked, stated his name as 'Jarrod Thomas'. The Llewellyns decided to keep quiet about his earlier disclosure, figuring their new friend's true name was his secret to keep.

.

As the sun rose to a clear, crisp morning, Sioned started a fire with the only slightly damp wood Jarrod had recommended they always keep under cover. After the cold, uncomfortable night, she needed a hot breakfast and hot coffee and was sure her menfolk would too. She laughed to herself when she realized she had included Jarrod as hers along with her father, and decided she might as well claim that responsibility being the only woman out there to look after him. Rhys rose not long after and took it upon himself to see to the horses while they let Jarrod rest.

The coffee brewed, Sioned was pouring herself a cup when she heard a faint groan coming from the bundle of blankets beside the wagon. Taking the coffee with her, she went to Jarrod's side and helped him sit up before handing him the steaming cup.

"And how are you feeling this fine morning?" she greeted him cheerfully.

Jarrod tried to smile, wincing and briefly raising a hand to his bandaged head before taking a sip of the coffee. "Is it?"

"Is it what? Fine or just morning?" Sioned said with a hint of saucy humour.

"Either, both. Whichever seems more accurate."

Sioned looked around before looking back at Jarrod. "Well, the sun is shining and you're still among the living. I think that's enough to qualify as a fine morning."

Jarrod smiled as he regarded the contents of his cup. "I suppose you're right. But my head begs to differ."

Sioned patted his hand. "You just sit right there and I'll bring you some breakfast when it's ready."

She went back to the fire and flipped the biscuits on the griddle along with the frying bacon. Rhys stopped to speak to Jarrod when he finished grooming and harnessing the horses, then came over to the fire.

"I was informing Jarrod he's to just ride in the wagon while you drive, Sioned, and I'll be riding that horse of his," Rhys told her while he helped himself to coffee and breakfast. "I would've told him we'll be staying put today, but I don't think he'd be going along with that."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Sioned reassured her father with a shake of her head. "Men. Stubbornest beasts on this green earth."

"Well, that's the pot calling the kettle black," he teased, but she ignored him as she took some breakfast over to Jarrod.

At the smell of the bacon, Jarrod's complexion paled. "I don't think I quite feel up to eating yet," he apologized.

Sioned smiled sympathetically. "A knock on the head will be doing that to you. Are you sure you don't want to stay here today? I'll not begrudge an extra day to get to Deadwood."

"And why would that be? I hear all the best people are flocking there." His grin was devilish, but was replaced by a flash of pain as he tried to stand.

Sioned grabbed his arm before he fell over and positioned herself under it. "If you must stand, at least lean on me." She hadn't been that close to him before and her face grew warm as she felt the strength of the muscles under his shirt.

Jarrod leaned against the side of the wagon as Rhys hurried over. "Now, Jarrod, you had a nasty whack on the head. Let us be helping you for a bit." He took his daughter's place at Jarrod's side. "Sioned, why don't you be cleaning up camp and I'll help the lad into the wagon before hitching up the team."

Sioned nodded her agreement and went to tidy up the breakfast things and put out the fire. Thinking about the feeling she had when Jarrod leaned against her, she knew she had been right earlier, and a finer morning she had never seen.


	9. Chapter 9

"So tell me about Wales."

They'd passed Fort Laramie two days ago. Jarrod was feeling almost recovered from the accident, but not yet one hundred percent, so Rhys continued to ride Jingo and Jarrod kept his position in the wagon.

His head was starting to throb again after their midday break, but he continued to keep a sharp eye on the horizon for any sign of threat. They were getting closer to the Black Hills and Sioux territory and Jarrod kept the rifle out and across his lap. Having something else to concentrate on would make it easier to ignore the dull ache and the sweet lilt of Sioned's voice seemed like just the thing.

He snuck a glance at the raven-haired beauty on the seat beside him. As easy on the eyes as she was on the ears, at least, when she wasn't displaying her formidable temper. Strong and capable, with a quick wit and intelligence, Sioned Llewellyn was just the type of woman he'd want to bring home to his family. Jarrod sighed, wondering if he'd ever stop feeling that pang of sadness when he thought of home.

"And just what would you be wanting to know?"

Jarrod closed his eyes for a moment before resuming his task of scanning the horizon. "Start with where you grew up. 'The prettiest little village anyone ever set eyes on', I believe you said. Pontra…Pontry…"

"Pontrhydfendigaid," Sioned supplied, taking pity on him with a laugh. "Have you ever been to Wales, Jarrod?"

Shaking his head, Jarrod replied, "No, I haven't. I've been a lot of places in the States, but never overseas."

Sioned's smile grew contemplative. "Lush forests, great green waves of rolling hills and fields, I've always thought God practiced everywhere else and when he finally got it right, he made Wales." Jarrod was drawn to her radiant expression. He could see the love on her face for the country she'd grown up in and had a jolt of homesickness for his own beloved valley. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her lovely face and back to his watch as she continued. "My cousin Griffith and I were wandering all about those hills and you were never knowing what was going to be over the next; a peaceful lake, a tumbling stream, even the Devil's Bridge itself."

"Now that sounds like a story." Jarrod stretched his leg and rested it on the front of the wagon.

"Well, it's said that the bridge over the River Mynach was being built by the devil himself. Somehow, an old woman's cow strayed to the other side of the gorge and she had no way to get the animal back. Satan appeared and offered to be building a bridge so the woman could retrieve her cow." Sioned glanced over at Jarrod and her brown eyes sparkled.

"Now the old woman was a shrewd one and was asking what the payment might be for such a thing. 'Not much,' the devil told her, 'just the first living thing that crosses the bridge.' The old woman agreed and suddenly a stone bridge was spanning the gorge. Satan was smug, thinking he'd be having the old woman's soul when she went across to get her cow, but she was outsmarting him. She took a crust out of her pocket and threw it across and her little dog was scampering across the bridge after it. Satan knew he'd been outsmarted and vanished, but the bridge remains to this day."

Jarrod chuckled, imagining the look on old Satan's face. "I think you were born with the soul of a bard, my dear," he told her and she blushed a little at the compliment.

Suddenly, Jarrod sat up straighter and shaded his eyes with his hand. "Pull up, Sioned." Sioned pulled the horses to a halt and Rhys gigged Jingo to the side of the wagon.

"What is it?" the older man asked.

"Not sure," replied Jarrod. He stared into the distance for another moment. "Buzzards," he said finally. "Something's wrong up ahead." He climbed down from the wagon, noting with relief he only felt a slight bit of dizziness. "Rhys, let's trade places."

"Are you sure now?" Rhys wanted to know, but climbed downed from Jingo's back and handed Jarrod the reins. Jarrod swung into the saddle and held still until the faint pounding the sudden motion set off in his head subsided.

"Keep the rifle ready," Jarrod told him as he loosened his Colt in its holster and made sure the rifle attached to the saddle would slide freely from its scabbard. "I'll ride ahead, you follow slowly. If there's any trouble, get out as fast as you can. Keep Sioned safe."

He didn't wait for an argument, just spurred Jingo into a gallop in the direction of the circling scavengers and soon came across a sight of chaos. Three wagons, five dead horses and the bodies of twice that many men lay strewn about the ground. Jarrod scanned the area and didn't see any sign of the perpetrators, so he dismounted and inspected the scene more closely. He noted the feathered arrow shafts sticking out of more than one chest. A Sioux raiding party most likely, Jarrod speculated.

Crouching down, he looked at the face of the man nearest him, not much more than a boy. Somehow, the youthful face reminded him of his brother Heath. Heath hadn't been much older when he was scouting for wagon trains and was considerably younger when he fought in the War Between the States. His mind involuntarily superimposed his brother's face on that of the dead man and Jarrod fell to his knees in the dirt as he remembered the sight of Heath being dragged into the house, Donnelly's bullet lodged in his chest.

Hearing the wagon drive up shook Jarrod out of his nightmare and he struggled to his feet. Turning, he saw the looks of disbelief and sorrow on his companions' faces.

"Ambush," he said quietly. "I don't think they left any survivors."

Sioned put the brake on the wagon and started to get down, but Jarrod moved to stand in her way. "Sioned, it's not a pretty sight," he warned.

"And what, you just expect me to be sitting here while you deal with all this?" she asked tartly. Jarrod knew better by now than to argue with her and extended his arms, offing his assistance and she let him help her down from the wagon.

After searching the bodies and finding no identification, Jarrod and Rhys dug the shallow graves and Sioned spoke a few words over the resting places of the unfortunate men. They searched the contents of the wagons to see if there was anything that might give names to the fallen and having no better luck there, quietly resumed their trek. Jarrod opted to ride Jingo, not feeling like fit company at the moment. He thought about the men they'd just left behind, with no one but strangers to know their fates and wondered if he'd end up the same way, in an unmarked grave, alone and unmourned.

.

.

Jarrod offered to do the dishes that night and took them off to the stream that ran a few hundred yards from their camp. Rhys sat back, cleaning his rifle, and Sioned finished setting the camp to rights. She glanced up at the sun setting behind the mountains that, from a distance, did appear black. Once they were among them, Sioned saw that they were actually a dark green from the heavy growth of pines, but Black Hills still seemed an appropriate name. She shivered, not sure if it was from the cool of the mountain evening or from the knowledge of the wild animals and even wilder men who inhabited the hills. She shook her head, chiding herself for worrying needlessly when there were two strong men like her father and Jarrod around to protect her.

Sioned smiled as she thought of the handsome dark-haired man. In spite of her initial accusation, Jarrod had behaved the gentleman every time he was in her presence. Unfailingly gracious and polite, he always had a warm smile for her and she was enjoying the time spent in his company very much. Her father approved of Jarrod and if he asked to pay court to her, she'd have a hard time turning him down. But the growing attraction she was feeling for a man who hadn't even given her his true name was still a bit worrying.

_Don't be putting the cart before the horse, Sioned_, she thought, chastising herself. _He's probably treating every woman the same way he does you._

"Well, what do we have here?"

Sioned whirled at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Two men were standing there, both giving her a look that sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. They were unshaven and unkempt, one with stringy blond hair hanging down to his shoulders and the other with a cruel looking scar marring one side of his face.

"No, don't get up, old man," the blond said, pulling his sidearm as Rhys started to rise to his feet, "and leave that rifle on the ground."

"What are you wanting with us?" Rhys demanded, putting on a brave front.

"Just a little hospitality," the scarred one drawled. He walked over to Sioned and she shrank away from him. "You look like the hospitable type."

Sioned's heart pounded in fear and she started to scream as he grabbed her arm, ripping her dress as he jerked her to him and roughly slammed his mouth over hers. She could taste the sour tang of cheap whiskey on his breath and when he tried to force his tongue into her mouth, she bit down hard.

"Why you little-!" he yelled and yanked on the front of her dress, ripping it further and grabbing her cruelly. Sioned saw her father try to get to her and cried out as the man struck him hard in the face, making Rhys fall to his knees.

Then a shot rang out and the blond man staggered back, a look of surprise on his face as a crimson stain spread across the shoulder of his shirt.

"Get away from her." Jarrod's deep voice echoed through the trees. The scarred one pushed Sioned away and fired in the direction the voice came from, but another shot dropped him where he stood. The other man went for his gun, but didn't even clear leather before he too was lying in the dirt, this time the bullet finding the middle of his chest.

Shaking off her panic and shock, Sioned ran to her father. "Oh, Da, are you all right?" she asked, taking his face in her hands and examining the purpling bruise on his cheek.

"I should be asking you that, lass," he replied, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

Jarrod came over and knelt beside them, offering Sioned his coat to cover herself.

Sioned took the coat gratefully and pulled it on over her torn dress. "Thank you, Jarrod."

"I only wish I'd gotten here sooner," he told her and she tried to smile at him, wanting to alleviate some of the guilt she saw in his brilliant blue eyes.

Jarrod glanced over at the bodies. "I'll get these cleaned up."

"I'll help you, Jarrod." Rhys tried to get to his feet and Jarrod and Sioned caught him when he almost fell over. He smiled wryly. "Guess this old head isn't as hard as it used to be."

Sioned gave him a hug as they helped him sit back down. "You stay here, Da. I'll help Jarrod."

She rose to her feet and walked over to the nearest body before Jarrod caught her arm. "Sioned, I can handle it."

She shrugged him off and grabbed the still form under the arms and started to drag the body of the man who'd assaulted her away from the camp, gratified when Jarrod didn't argue and just picked up the man's legs and helped carry him a short distance away.

"Sioned…" Jarrod tried again as she headed back to the camp without saying a word and she whirled to face him.

"I need to do this, Jarrod," she snapped. "I need to know they're dead, that they can't…" Her voice caught as the enormity of what almost happened hit her with full force. She started sobbing uncontrollably and Jarrod drew her unresisting form into the shelter of his strong arms.

"It's all right, Sioned," he murmured, stroking her hair with gentle hands. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

And in spite of her misgivings at the secrets he held, Sioned knew Jarrod's words came straight from his heart and relaxed into the save haven of his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

_Just a note for those who are wondering_, Sioned (SHAH-ned_) is the Welsh version of the more common Irish _Sinead (shih-NAYD)

.

.

The road through the winding canyon finally opened up, giving them their first sight of the town of Deadwood. _If you could call it a town_, Jarrod thought grimly. One long muddy street ran through the center with rough buildings thrown up on each side; some of lumber, some just false fronts with tents in behind. The hills rose on either side, covered with stumps and dead timber and Jarrod could see where the town got its name. From the number of men and tents dotting the banks of the creeks on their way in, Jarrod figured most, if not all, areas around the creeks were already being worked, so they would have to find someone wanting to sell their claim if they were to try and make their fortune in this gold rush town.

Rhys pushed his hat back on his forehead. "Well," he said, trying to bring a positive note, "this will be definitely a new start."

Jarrod just shook his head and shared a glance with Sioned.

"Aye, Da," she agreed reluctantly, "I suppose we'd better be heading down and see what we can find." Rhys clucked to the horses and Jarrod nudged Jingo and they made their way into town.

If Jarrod thought the number of saloons in Cheyenne was excessive, the proliferation in Deadwood was extreme. He stopped counting at fifteen before they even got halfway down the street. Old prospectors with heavily laden mules, young fortune hunters, dandies who he was sure were either gamblers or gunslingers were everywhere. Jarrod kept his right hand close to his revolver as they travelled the length of Deadwood, alert for any sign of trouble. The air was scented with fresh-cut pine, but that pleasant smell was almost overpowered by the miasma of too many animals and too many people. Hammering was heard from all sides as more buildings were being hastily erected. _Likely more saloons and brothels,_ Jarrod thought cynically.

He wondered again why he was even there until he glanced over at the wagon. His reason was right beside him, in the form of the raven-haired woman sitting on the bench seat. Jarrod knew he'd stay in this dismal place as long as Sioned was there.

They heard yelling and shouting and Jarrod's gun was halfway out of its holster when a man came flying out of the doors of one of the saloons. Another man followed quickly and jumped the first, delivering a solid blow to his head. A cheering crowd pursued close behind, urging on the combatants as they thrashed about in the muck of the street. Suddenly, the first man got to his feet and pulled his gun, shooting his adversary in the chest and the crowd dispersed, leaving the body lying in the mud. Jarrod shuddered in revulsion at the callous murder, but everything he'd heard about the lawless town told him that was a common occurrence. He indicated with a tilt of his head for them to keep going.

They reached the end of the town without further incident and Rhys pulled the wagon to a halt.

Jarrod shifted to sit sideways in his saddle. "Welcome to Deadwood," he said dryly.

Rhys shook his head in disbelief. "I can tell you, I was not expecting it to be like this." He turned to Sioned, contrition written all over his face. "I'm sorry for dragging you to this godforsaken place, lass. Say the word and we'll be turning around and heading back to civilization."

Sioned gave him a small smile. "No, Da. We're here and here we'll stay, at least for the time being."

"Well, the first thing you'll need is a claim," Jarrod told them. "From the looks of things on the way in, I'd say all the spots are spoken for, but there's always someone who didn't think he'd have to work so hard to get rich and is wanting to sell out." He looked around before dismounting and handed Jingo's reins to Rhys. "Just stay with the wagon and I'll head back and see what I can find."

Sioned slid off the wagon seat and stood in front of him. "You're not going alone. I'll be coming with you."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow and a smile quirked at the corners of his mouth in spite of his concern. "I don't think that would be wise, Sioned." He didn't mention the events of a couple nights ago, but he would if that was the only way to convince her to stay behind, knowing if he couldn't, she was quite capable of following him whether he thought it was a good idea or not. "The types of places down-on-their-luck prospectors tend to go aren't the most respectable."

Sioned put her hands on her hips as if she was about to argue with him, then her stance softened. "You're right, Jarrod," she admitted reluctantly. "I'm just not liking the idea that you'll be going alone. Maybe my da…"

Jarrod glanced at Rhys and gave a slight shake of his head before looking back at her. "You're not staying by yourself. I'll be fine." He turned to go, but was stopped by a gentle hand on his arm.

"Be careful, Jarrod," Sioned said quietly and before he knew what was happening, she reached up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, then pulled back quickly, her impulsive gesture bringing a flush of pink to her face.

He caressed one of her black curls briefly, wondering if that kiss could mean what he hoped it did. "I will, Sioned," he promised and walked back into town.

Jarrod pushed his personal feelings aside so he could concentrate on his mission, namely to find the Llewellyns a claim and keep his promise of staying safe to Sioned. Walking down the sidewalk, he chose a saloon at random. It wasn't overly crowded, being still early afternoon and he leaned on the long bar.

The bartender came over. "What'll you have?"

"Whiskey."

A glass was set in front of him as Jarrod threw a coin on the polished surface and the bartender filled the glass with amber liquid. Jarrod started to take a drink, but his nose caught a whiff of the contents and he set it back down, wondering what kind of person would be desperate enough to drink it. "On second thought, just a beer."

"You'll have to pay for both," the bartender warned and Jarrod fished out another coin. Leaning back, sipping the beer that smelled marginally better than the vile whiskey, Jarrod surveyed the room and picked out a few likely prospects before getting down to business.

.

Jarrod let the silt from the creek bed sift through his fingers, inspected a rock from the bank and stood up. "Well, it's as good as any of the others and the price was right." He thought of the eagerness to sell on the part of the man they'd bought the claim from, Jarrod's guess that there were those who didn't want to work for their riches being dead on and hefted the rock in his hand before tossing it to Rhys. "What do you think?"

"Heavier than it looks."

Jarrod chuckled. "That's because there's gold in it. A telluride ore, if I'm not mistaken." He surveyed the area closely. "I don't see any outcroppings, so it must've washed down from further up the mountain. But where's there's one, there's probably more."

Sioned looked at him questioningly. "You've done some prospecting, Jarrod?"

Jarrod paused, deciding how to answer. "Not really," he said finally, "but I did help my uncle for a week once when I was a boy. And I've been around a lot of mines and lost count of the number of times I've sat listening to an old '49er tell his life story."

Sioned surveyed the rocky site. "So where are we starting?"

Jarrod started to unload the big Percherons and a disgruntled Jingo who didn't like being used as a packhorse, the wagon being unable to make it up the rocky slope. "We set up camp, then start looking for gold."

.

Jarrod sat by himself, overlooking the creek. The sun had gone down and the heavens were ablaze with stars. He took a drag of his cigar, enjoying the taste and reflected on the events of the day. He was glad he'd thrown in with the Llewellyns and he'd been gratified when he remembered how to pan for gold.

Jarrod smiled as he recollected the trip he'd taken with his father to see Uncle Jim. He was only seven at the time and his mind was overflowing with tales of the gold rush that had brought his father's brother out west. Finally worn down by the young boy's excited pestering, Tom Barkley agreed to take his eldest son up into the mountains to visit Jim's claim before his brother sold it to buy a ranch, the dream that was in both the Barkleys' blood.

Jarrod remembered searching for gold alongside his father and uncle, not finding the creek beds littered with nuggets as his young mind imagined, but still excited at uncovering the glittering flakes amidst the sediment from the creek bottom. He chuckled wryly as he exhaled, watching the smoke swirl away, never thinking until now that his youthful adventure would come in handy someday.

Jarrod felt her presence and turned as Sioned sat beside him.

"Da went to bed," she said with a smile. "I think the excitement wore him out." Sioned's gaze went to the stars. "Did you see his face when he uncovered that first little nugget? I think he was finding it better than a room full of birthday presents."

A flood of homesickness came over him and Jarrod closed his eyes. With all that had happened, he'd almost forgotten what day it was, but Sioned's words reminded him with painful clarity.

Something must have shown on his face, because she touched his arm lightly and asked, "Jarrod? Is everything all right?"

He tried to push away his melancholy mood. "It's nothing, Sioned. I'll be fine."

Sioned raised a hand to his cheek and turned his head so he was facing her. "No, Jarrod, it's not nothing. You're hurting and I'm wanting to help. Haven't you heard the saying 'A grief shared is a grief halved'?"

Jarrod smiled sadly and took her hand in his, rubbing his work-roughened thumb over the soft skin. "I don't need you feeling sorry for me, I'm feeling sorry enough for myself." As she continued to watch him, he was captured by the caring in her brown eyes and finally relented. "Today's my birthday." He thought back to his birthday of the previous year, the joy he felt in the loving arms of family and wished he could still be with them. Jarrod took a deep breath to fight back the loneliness.

"You should have said something earlier," Sioned huffed in exasperation. "I would have… well, it would be near impossible to make you a proper birthday dinner out here, but I could've done something at least."

Chuckling, feeling some of the loneliness dissipate at Sioned's response, Jarrod reassured her, "Isn't there also a saying, 'It's the thought that counts'?"

They sat silently for a moment before Sioned murmured, "Happy birthday, Jarrod," and leaned towards him, kissing him softly on the lips. Jarrod wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer, kissing her more deeply. They eventually pulled apart, each slightly breathless, but Sioned made no attempt to move out of the enclosing circle of Jarrod's arms.

"I hope I'm not being too forward."

"No, Jarrod." Sioned leaned her head against his strong chest and Jarrod savoured the feel of her in his arms. "Although I'm sure my mam is turning in her grave at me allowing a man to take such liberties."

Jarrod stroked her silky black hair. "And your father?"

"My father thinks you're imminently respectable," she teased, "where he got that idea I'll not be knowing, but I'm not thinking this will tarnish his image of you."

"I hope not," Jarrod chuckled, feeling better than he had in months, "since I plan to ask for his permission to court his daughter first thing in the morning." He gazed down at the incredible woman he held. "As long as it's all right with you."

"It's more than all right," Sioned told him and their lips met again as the moon started to rise over the majesty of the mountains.


	11. Chapter 11

Jarrod eyed the large rock in the middle of the stream appraisingly. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he tightened the ropes around it. "Ready, Rhys?" he asked.

"Ready, Jarrod. Are you sure this will be working, lad?"

Standing in the middle of the creek beside Rhys, Jarrod regarded the almost man-height boulder again. The water rushing down the hill eddied around it, slowing considerably from its tumultuous cascade. Gold being one of the heaviest minerals, anything washed down to that point should sink when the current slowed around the rock, or at least that was what Jarrod theorized. Working the creek over the past week, they'd dug and panned around it, finding a good quantity of gold dust and a few small nuggets before Jarrod came up with the idea to move the monstrous stone. He figured if there was anything larger, it might just be trapped under that rock. And if he was wrong, the only thing they'd be out was a little backbreaking labour.

"If not, I'll buy you a beer next time we're in town," he said. "Let's get them moving, Sioned!" Jarrod called out.

Sioned stood beside the big draft horses who were harnessed to the rock. She spoke to them encouragingly, then yelled, "Hi-ya!" and gave the near horse a hearty slap on the hindquarters.

The horses willingly leaned into the harness, muscles straining as they strove forward. Jarrod and Rhys put their shoulders to the back of the boulder and pushed as well, using all the force they had available to try and budge the enormous stone. Just as Jarrod was about to call a halt, he felt it shift.

"It's moving!" he called and heard Sioned call encouragement to the horses. The rock slid an inch, then two and then moved another foot. "That should be it!" he shouted and heard Sioned's "whoa" to the team. Patting the large horses, Sioned then brought the gold pans over to the men who immediately began sifting through the gravel previously covered by the boulder. Jarrod stopped and rocked back on his heels, picking a chunk out of the pan.

"Do you see what I see, Rhys?" he asked, handing it to the other man. Rhys turned the rock over in his hands, his face breaking into a wide smile.

"Catch, lass!" he called tossing the rock to Sioned, who deftly caught it. The bright light shone on it and Sioned looked at it in amazement.

"It glitters," she said joyfully, "just like…"

"Gold?" Jarrod supplied, eyes gleaming. He waded out of the stream and grabbed Sioned in an enormous hug, lifting her off the ground before planting a big kiss on her lips.

"Jarrod, put me down!" she protested, laughing. "You're sweaty and dripping and you'll be ruining my dress!"

"I'll buy you another one, after I take you to dinner at the best place in town," he declared, kissing her again as he set her feet back on the ground.

"Aye, we'll be buying you a whole wagonload of dresses, Sioned, my girl!" Rhys seconded, not objecting at all to the familiarity Jarrod was showing to his daughter. He'd agreed wholeheartedly to Jarrod's intention of courting her, much to Sioned and her new suitor's delight. Rhys reached down and pulled up three more rocks of the same size and appearance as the one Sioned held. "And likely even more just waiting for us to find it!" He too waded out of the stream, taking Sioned from Jarrod's arms and giving her a hearty hug of his own.

Sioned pushed both men away, laughing. "Get on with both of you! If you'll be taking me to dinner tonight," she said with a warm look for Jarrod, "you need cleaning up." She plucked the gold nuggets out of her father's hand. "I'll tuck this away somewhere safe. Shoo, now!"

Jarrod gave her a slight bow and a rakish wink before moving off to the camp. He ducked into one of the tents, grabbed a towel and found his good clothes before heading to the area they used for bathing. He quickly stripped off his shirt and sodden pants and stood there, enjoying the refreshing coolness of the water on his sweaty skin before taking the bar of soap they kept beside the stream and scrubbing himself, sluicing his hair and body until the water ran clean.

As he towelled off and dressed, Jarrod felt a sense of satisfaction. He'd worked hard all his life, at school and on the ranch as a youth, then in his office and the courtroom when he finally reached adulthood. But this was different. This was something he'd achieved by the sweat of his own brow, without his family's money and influence. Oh, many people had applauded his brilliance as a lawyer, but he never truly knew how much of that praise was for him and how much was for the Barkley reputation.

He finished buttoning his shirt and slicked his wet hair off his forehead, pushing aside any thoughts of the life he'd left behind. Nothing was going to dampen his spirits tonight and nothing was going to alter the plans he had. Other than their incredible find and the gold that still might be waiting, there was no real future to be had in Deadwood. It wasn't populated by people who wanted to make a real home, only by those who wanted to make a quick fortune. And Jarrod wanted a real home again, one that included Sioned by his side and he hoped she wanted the same thing. Finish working their claim, cash in the gold and move on toward a new beginning.

Carefully tying his tie, Jarrod shrugged his way into the jacket he hadn't worn for months and was surprised by the tightness in the arms and shoulders. The physical labour he'd been doing had obviously added muscle and he rolled his shoulders experimentally, satisfying himself that none of the seams would give. He wanted to make a good impression on Sioned and planned to make his intentions clear sometime this evening.

But a little voice spoke up, giving him pause. The honest part, the part that felt guilty not telling her his real name or why he was estranged from his family reminded him he hadn't been totally open with her. He never intended to take those he loved for granted again, but he was afraid Sioned might reject him if she found out the truth.

He wouldn't ask Sioned to marry him without being completely honest, Jarrod vowed. He knew he had to tell her the truth tonight and resigned himself to letting the chips fall where they may, even if that meant losing someone he loved all over again.

.

Sioned grasped Jarrod's arm tightly as they were shown to their table at the newly opened Grand Central Hotel restaurant.

"Jarrod, everyone's staring," she said in a low voice.

"That's because you're the most beautiful woman in the room," he told her with a charming smile as he held her chair for her.

Sioned looked around. "Jarrod, I'm being the only woman in the room, besides the waitress," she informed him.

Jarrod took her hand in his. "That doesn't make you any less beautiful," he replied as he kissed her fingertips.

Sioned blushed. Ever since that first kiss, every look Jarrod cast her way sent a swarm of butterflies through her insides. She remembered back to their first meeting. So upset by the idea of travelling with unsavory people up to the Black Hills, she'd been horribly rude to Jarrod after tripping over his feet. But even with that inauspicious beginning, he remained unfailingly charming and polite and it hadn't taken long for her to be enchanted completely. And when he asked to court her, she hadn't hesitated to say yes.

The only problem was the secret Jarrod was keeping. Even though she was sure he wasn't running from the law, how could she trust a man who held back such a large part of his life, including his real name? And if she couldn't trust him, how could she even consider spending the rest of her life with him?

The dinner was wonderful and Jarrod was at his most charming, but Sioned inwardly fretted. She knew she'd have to ask before things got any further between them, but knowing she had to do something and knowing how to do it were two different things. What if he refused to tell her? What if it was something horrible, something she could never accept?

She was quiet, still thinking on the half-hour walk back to their camp. Jarrod didn't say much either, both of them lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived, Jarrod led her to the outcropping of rocks where they'd shared their first kiss. He sat and she sat next to him.

"I have so much I need to tell you, Sioned," Jarrod said, staring out over the ravine, "I don't know where to start."

"I'm always finding the beginning to be a good place." Sioned reached out and took his hand, hoping he was about to open up to her. "And I'm a good listener."

Jarrod gave a smile as he looked down at the small hand in his. "My last name isn't Thomas," he said quietly. "It's Barkley. Jarrod Thomas Barkley."

Sioned stayed silent at his admission.

Jarrod went on. "I am, or was, a lawyer. My family owns a large ranch near Stockton in California, as well as lumber, shipping, gold and silver mines. I guess you could say we're fairly well off." He stopped and Sioned waited for him to continue.

When he didn't, she asked, "Why did you leave?" and held her breath for the answer.

Jarrod heaved a deep sigh. "I made a lot of choices that put my family at risk. I thought about how justice and the law could be served before I thought of the needs and feelings of those I loved. And finally, one of those choices almost got my family killed." Jarrod bowed his head and Sioned's hand moved up to squeeze his shoulder. She could feel the muscles tremble beneath her fingers. "My brother kicked me off the ranch. Told me to never come back. And quite frankly, I don't blame him."

Sioned moved closer and leaned her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him.

"God, what kind of man am I, Sioned?" Jarrod's tortured voice asked. "What kind of man would allow his mother and sister to be held in an attic against their will, even for a noble cause? Let his brother think he would be hanged, even though they assured me no one would be hurt? Why didn't I say no or at least make sure no one else could possibly be involved?" Jarrod's shoulders shook with grief and Sioned held him close.

"We all make mistakes, Jarrod," she said softly. Now that it was out in the open, Jarrod's revelation wasn't as bad as she'd feared. "And we all have to live with them. I can't be telling you if you were right or wrong, I wasn't there. All I can tell you is that I'm knowing you have a good and caring heart and that I love you." She said the last in almost a whisper.

Jarrod looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. "How can you say that?"

Sioned caressed his cheek. "Because it's hurting you so much. Even though I'm hating to see the ache in your eyes, someone callous and unfeeling wouldn't be carrying around so much pain and guilt."

Jarrod took both her hands in his. "I swear to you, Sioned, I'll never put anything over the happiness and safety of someone I love again." He turned her hand over, kissing her palm. "And I love you, Sioned Llewellyn. In spite of my faults, would you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"

Sioned closed her eyes as all the pieces of her life fell into place. "Yes, Jarrod Barkley. I will."

_._

_._

_A/N:The rock in the stream was inspired by the Clint Eastwood classic_ Pale Rider.


	12. Chapter 12

Jarrod walked over to where Rhys was tightening the ropes on the canvas covering the wagon bed. The older man looked up.

"Got all the business taken care of?"

"Yep." Jarrod's saddlebags were slung over his shoulders, their worn appearance belaying the fact of what was inside. They'd decided to cash in the majority of their gold right before they left so there would be less chance of thieves realizing just how much they'd found. Jarrod had sold the claim to a couple trail-fresh cowboys before taking the sacks of nuggets and gold dust to the bank to trade it for more portable gold eagles and double eagles, along with some smaller change. After only five weeks, they had accumulated a hefty sum, a testament to Jarrod's shrewd evaluation of the underworked claim and everyone's sheer hard work. It wasn't much compared to the vast Barkley fortune, but it was enough to give them all a more-than-comfortable new start.

This time, they had joined with a few others leaving the rough gold rush town and the group was getting ready to depart. "I'm going to see exactly when we might be leaving," Rhys informed his future son-in-law and strode off to where the owners of the other wagons had gathered.

Jarrod took half the money out of his saddlebags when no one was around to notice and stowed it under the wagon seat before fastening the rest to the back of his saddle.

"I'll not be sad to leave this place behind."

Jarrod turned to find Sioned standing beside the wagon, arms crossed, surveying Deadwood. He walked over to stand beside her and leaned against the wagon, pushing back his hat.

"Can't say I blame you," he agreed. "Certainly not my first choice of a place to raise a family." He looked over at her, blue eyes twinkling and Sioned blushed.

"Jarrod, we're not wed yet," she reminded him, but there was a smile on her face. "It's a bit early to be talking about a family."

Jarrod pulled her into his arms. "That's going to change as soon as we reach Cheyenne," he promised, kissing her lightly. "I'm going to grab the first justice of the peace I see and make you my wife before you have an opportunity to change your mind."

"I don't think there's much chance that will be happening." Sioned leaned into his chest and Jarrod enjoyed the warm feel of her next to him.

"Sioned," he asked slowly, "we haven't really talked about where we want to go after we get away from here." He gazed searchingly into her eyes. "What do you want to do? I know how much you miss your home. Do you want to go back to Wales?"

Sioned didn't answer right away. "Someday I do," she said at last, "but for a visit. Not to live. America is where Da and I came for a new start and I think it's done well by us so far." She tilted her head up to kiss him and Jarrod obliged, taking her sweet lips with his.

"You haven't wed my daughter yet, Jarrod." Rhys' words were accusing, but his tone was full of mirth. "I'll kindly ask you to remember that."

Sioned pulled out of Jarrod's arms, blushing and laughing. "Aye, Da, I was just reminding him of the same thing."

"And a good job you were doing at it, too."

Sioned blushed again and Jarrod settled his hat more firmly on his head. "I think that's my cue to mount up," he said with a chuckle. He grabbed Sioned for another quick but firm kiss before mounting Jingo.

The wagon train set off and the trip back to Cheyenne was mostly uneventful. They passed quite a few fortune-seekers heading up to Deadwood and Jarrod wished them luck. He knew what he'd found on that trail was more precious than any gold and often sent a quiet prayer of thanks heavenward for his new chance at life, along with a prayer that the family he'd left behind was safe and happy as well.

He wondered, not for the first time, if he should go home to California. If Sioned had asked, he would have willingly gone back to the land of her birth with her, but she hadn't, leaving him the freedom to take her back to his family. But what she said about America offering her and her father a new start echoed in his mind as well. Sioned was in his life because of the choices that brought him to Wyoming Territory and as much as he regretted some of those choices, meeting Sioned was not one of those regrets.

It wasn't as though he didn't want to go home; Jarrod's heart yearned for the valley and people he loved, but the simple truth was he didn't think he could face his family's rejection again. Someday, maybe, but right now he was just going to play out the hand he was dealt and look ahead to a new life with his beautiful Sioned by his side, not look back to all that he'd thrown away.

.

.

"I never thought I'd be happy seeing this place again."

They left the wagon and horses at the livery and Jarrod and the Llewellyns were walking down the streets of Cheyenne. Jarrod threw his arm around Sioned's shoulders.

"What, you don't like all the dust and noise?" he asked with a smile.

"No," Sioned replied succinctly. "You were asking a while back where I'd like to go from here?" Jarrod nodded and she continued. "Someplace green. Where it rains without a blooming thunderstorm. Someplace with trees."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow at Rhys and Sioned's father chuckled. "I'm just being her father, you're the one marrying her. I hope you're knowing what you're getting yourself into."

"What's life without a little adventure?" Jarrod responded with a wink as he steered them into the lobby of the Inter-Ocean Hotel. "If you want trees, sweetheart, I will endeavour to find you trees."

Jarrod booked two rooms and inquired of the desk clerk where they could find the courthouse.

"One hour," he told Sioned as he and Rhys left her at the door to one of the rooms. "That should give everyone plenty of time to freshen up before I make you my wife."

It took a little longer than an hour before they found themselves at the courthouse. Jarrod informed the clerk as to why they were there and turned to Sioned as the man went to locate the justice of the peace. "Sioned, if I'm rushing you at all…"

Sioned just laughed. "Jarrod, you should know by now that I'll not be rushed into anything I don't want to be doing. And marrying you is something I want to do indeed."

A portly-looking man with wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose came back with the clerk. "You must be the happy couple," he said, extending a hand to Jarrod. "I'm Sy Potter."

Jarrod shook the offered hand. "I'm Jarrod… Jarrod Barkley." He looked over to Sioned. She had told him she didn't care, she was marrying the man not the name, but Jarrod decided to use the name he'd been born with, not wanting anything to impair the legality of his union to Sioned. "And my intended is Sioned Llewellyn." Potter smiled at her and turned to Rhys.

"I'm the father of the blushing bride," Rhys beamed, shaking the offered hand. "And a prouder man you'll never see." He winked at Jarrod. "Though my new son-in-law might be coming a close second."

Potter took them into his office where Jarrod and Sioned pledged their eternal love and fidelity to each other. When they were pronounced 'man and wife', Jarrod gathered Sioned into his arms and kissed her softly and tenderly, vowing to himself he would never again take anyone he loved for granted and everything he did from then on would be entirely and solely for her.


	13. Chapter 13

Victoria brushed her hand against the garland hanging on the fireplace before wandering over to the tree dominating the parlour. It really was a magnificent evergreen, a large fir that had taken Nick and Heath an entire day to bring down from the edge of the hills. Most of the decorations already adorned its branches, but there was still one box lying open on the small table. Maybe finishing the job of trimming the tree would help put her in a more festive mood.

Reaching in, Victoria pulled out the first ornament her hand came across and she was just about to hang it on the nearest branch when she realized exactly what it was. Her breath caught and she almost dropped the precious glass object. Cradling it gently in both hands, Victoria sat on the settee as the sight of the delicate angel blurred, her eyes filling with tears.

A memory of another Christmas when she wasn't able to summon up the spirit of the season came over her, the first Christmas she'd spent without Tom. Jarrod had found her late that Christmas Eve, sitting in front of the fire with her heart full of sorrow. The memory was so vivid that she could almost hear Jarrod's warm voice as he sat beside her.

"_You should be in bed, Mother. I certainly don't want to have to be the one to explain to our Nick that St. Nicholas didn't come because you were still up." _

She smiled a bittersweet smile as she remembered her response to Jarrod's gentle teasing.

"_You're not sleeping either."_

"_Ah, but St. Nicholas and I have an understanding. I make sure my brother doesn't eat the milk and cookies and St. Nick overlooks the fact that I'm not in bed yet."_

Victoria gazed down at the glass angel in her hands.

"_This is for you, Mother."_

"_Jarrod, it's not Christmas morning for a few more hours."_

"_I know, but somehow, I thought I should give it to you tonight."_

In her mind, Victoria could see the shiny paper fall away as she unwrapped the box and removed the angel with its outspread arms.

"_I know how much you miss Father. I thought… well, I thought maybe you could hang this on the tree and know he's looking down on us. Keeping us all safe in his arms."_

Every year since, the angel was hung on the tree and every year she could feel her beloved Tom watching over his family. "Tom," Victoria whispered, adding to her yearly wish that he could still be with her a wish for another missing member of her family, "keep our son safe. Don't let him be all alone this Christmas."

It had been months since Jarrod left, months since they even knew for sure he was alive. Nick hired detectives to locate his wayward brother, but even the renowned Pinkerton agency hadn't come up with anything yet.

Victoria couldn't bring herself to think the worst, but her mind's eye kept conjuring images of her eldest son, lying injured and alone in some forgotten alley, or sick with fever and only strangers' hands to care for him. The whole family keenly felt Jarrod's absence, coping but never able to forget the hole left in their midst.

Victoria thought back again to those dark days after Tom had been shot. Jarrod had been the rock that held them together, the glue that kept the fabric of the family from unravelling. He was there for each of them, encouraging Nick when his younger brother felt overwhelmed at the responsibility of running the ranch, holding Audra for hours on end, letting his little sister sleep in his bed when her nightmares grew too strong. Even she had broken down and wept on her son's shoulder, his strong arms never letting her feel truly alone.

It wasn't until much later that she realized what he'd given up to keep the family going. He practically put his law practice on hold to take over the empire his father had built, even turning down an invitation to work in the Attorney General's office in Sacramento so he could stay close to home, a position that could have led his legal career to great heights.

Although they had all taken advantage of his unfaltering presence, Jarrod had never done the same. Victoria wasn't even sure if she ever truly saw Jarrod grieve for his father. Oh, she knew he had dealt with Tom's death, but he never let his sorrow show, never leaned on them as his family leaned on him.

They had all taken Jarrod for granted, Victoria had come to realize over the past months. His passions and crusades took him in directions they couldn't always agree with, but he never failed to be there when any of the family needed him. Maybe he had been a bit shortsighted, maybe he should have suggested an alternative to the government's plan, but he would never knowingly put his mother, sister or brothers in jeopardy. Over the past months, the hurt and anger at what the charade with General Alderson put the family through had faded, leaving behind only the certainty that Jarrod would have never agreed to anything if he thought it would endanger those he loved.

"Mother!"

Victoria reflexively looked down at the angel, thankful to see it hadn't shattered with her son's roar.

"Nicholas-" she started but couldn't finish chastising him since he picked her up from the settee and spun her around. "Nick, what on earth…?"

Nick pulled a paper out of his pocket and brandished it in front of her. "Just got this today." He put it in her hand. "It's from Pinkerton's."

Victoria's hands trembled as she unfolded the piece of paper.

"Now it's not everything we hoped for, but it's something," Nick told her, "something good. Seems as though they were looking through records for an unrelated case and came across Jarrod's name."

" 'Jarrod Thomas Barkley married Sioned Llewellyn in Cheyenne on August 10th'," Victoria read, almost in a whisper.

"They didn't find any other sign of him, just that," Nick continued, "but he was there, Mother. Jarrod was in Wyoming Territory just over four months ago."

"And he was married," Victoria added softly. She slowly walked back to the tree and reverently hung the glass angel on a green branch.

No, she didn't have Jarrod home, but at least one of her Christmas wishes was granted; she knew her son wasn't alone.


	14. Chapter 14

Jarrod took his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. The _Raven_ should have docked by now and that meant only a little while until he could go home. He'd wanted to stay home that morning, worried about his father-in-law, but Sioned pushed him out the door, telling him they'd be fine and that he needed to get some work done.

Leaning back in his chair for a stretch, Jarrod tried not to think about all the work piling up since Rhys fell ill. Managing their shipping business plus the tavern Rhys had purchased when they moved to Portland was a lot of work for one man and Jarrod was starting to feel the strain. The coastal city was booming and business along with it and Jarrod thought again about hiring someone to manage the bar. Not content to run a typical dockside tavern, Rhys had built the new Black Lion into a more refined pub-like atmosphere, and as a consequence, attracted a more genteel clientele in the form of ship's captains, British ex-patriots and owners of the various thriving businesses in the area. Jarrod was loath to hand over the running of it to a stranger, but he didn't see how he was going to be able to keep up with all the work himself. And besides, if the doctor was right… Well, if the doctor was right, and his father-in-law didn't recover, Rhys wouldn't be around to care.

Jarrod heard a tap on the door to the office and called, "Come in." Michael, the young man who Jarrod recently hired to tend the bar, stuck his head in.

"Mr. Thomas, the shipment for the pub was just delivered and they dropped off the bill of lading for the _Raven_ as well."

Jarrod smiled at the earnest young man. After using the name 'Thomas' for over a year, he was starting to get used to it. Even though he married Sioned using his real name and he'd never actually change it, Jarrod was still hesitant to have to explain to anyone recognizing the name Jarrod Barkley why he was estranged from his family. "Just put the papers here on my desk. I trust you to see to the storage of everything in the cellar."

Michael walked in and carefully placed the papers on top of one of the piles currently littering Jarrod's workspace. "The buyer in San Francisco bought from a new winery this time. Would you like to try some out before we serve it to the customers?"

Jarrod started to shake his head, then changed his mind. "Why don't you pick out a bottle and I'll take it home with me?" he suggested.

Michael bobbed his head. "Will do, Mr. Thomas. I'll have it at the bar for you when you're ready to leave."

Jarrod sighed as he regarded the mound of paperwork in front of him. All he wanted to do was go home, put his feet up by the fire and hold his wife close and decided the rest of the work could wait another day. He grabbed his coat and hat, stopped by the bar to pick up the waiting bottle of wine and assured Michael he trusted the young man to lock up after closing. Walking over to the livery, Jarrod waited while a stableboy saddled his horse and only then noticed the name on the bottle of merlot. _Barkley Wineries. _Pushing aside the pang of homesickness the label brought, Jarrod still had to smile. He'd told his buyer to get the best and he certainly couldn't complain about the man's choice. Tucking the bottle into his saddlebag, Jarrod mounted Jingo and headed to the modest frame house he now called home.

Jarrod's heart filled with dread when he saw the dark carriage parked out front, and after taking Jingo around to the small stable, he hurried into the house. Sioned greeted him at the bottom of the stairs and Jarrod saw the tracks of tears on her face.

"Oh, no, honey," he said, gathering her into his arms, "why didn't you send someone to get me?"

Sioned rested her head on his chest. "No need, Jarrod, he just…he just never woke. I sent for the doctor, but there was nothing to be done. Da just slipped away peacefully." Jarrod held her tightly and Sioned wept softly against his shoulder. He thought about the man who'd been like a father to him these past months, and mourned silently along with his wife.

The undertaker came down the stairs with his assistant, carrying a dark-shrouded form. "Mr. Thomas," he greeted. "Tomorrow will be fine to make all the arrangements if you wish."

"Thank-you." Jarrod was grateful he didn't have to deal with that tonight, he only wanted to stay home and comfort Sioned. The undertaker nodded and left with Rhys' body, shutting the door behind.

Jarrod guided Sioned into the parlour and sat her down. "How are you holding up, Sioned?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I'll be fine, Jarrod. It's not like we weren't expecting it. No need to worry about me."

Jarrod cupped her cheek in his hand and used his thumb to rub away a tear. "Of course I worry about you. I love you, it's my job." He put his arm around her and drew her close, letting her know she wasn't alone.

"Da died a happy man," Sioned said after a while, "in no small part to you, Jarrod. I just wish he'd been able to see his grandchild."

Resting his hand on the growing bulge of her belly, Jarrod kissed Sioned's temple. "He'll see," he told her softly, "never doubt that your father will be watching over us."

Sioned started to get up. "I should get you some dinner," but Jarrod gently pushed her back down.

"I'll fix something for both of us," he assured her. "I think I can find my way around the kitchen well enough to at least make some sandwiches." Jarrod thought she looked exhausted and when Sioned didn't argue, he knew he was right. He picked her feet up and set them on the footstool. "You sit here and rest. I'll be right back."

Jarrod found bread and some leftover slices of beef in the icebox. He put the kettle on the stove, thinking Sioned would appreciate a cup of tea and started to put together a light supper while the water boiled. Slicing the bread, Jarrod let his mind wander. He definitely would need some help running the tavern. Michael, the bartender, seemed like a capable sort and Jarrod decided to turn some of the books and management tasks over to the young man and see how he did, maybe even offer him a part of the business if he was so inclined.

Jarrod's thoughts drifted further, back to when his own father died. He'd been numb for months, reacting on reflex to console his family and take over as head of the Barkley household. He had quickly realized that the railroad would pounce on any sign of weakness, any sign the Barkley sons weren't as strong as their father, so he hadn't dared let his grief show lest his father's sacrifice become for nothing. And he needed to be strong for his family as well, his mother newly widowed, Audra left fatherless at the tender age of twelve, Nick put in charge of the vast ranch at only twenty-two.

Jarrod sat down heavily at the kitchen table and sank his head into his hands. Had he ever had the chance to truly grieve for the loss of his father? The father who taught him everything about horses and ranching, the father who supported his decision to become a lawyer, even though Jarrod knew Tom would have rather had his son by his side, the father who taught him all he needed to know about being a man and that he'd had for much too short a time? His shoulders shook with long-repressed sorrow as he mourned the losses in his life, his father, Sioned's, and the loss of his family. Even though they were still among the living, his mother, sister and brothers seemed no less lost to him.

He started at the soft hand on his shoulder.

"I was wondering if you'd gotten lost," Sioned gently teased as she sat beside him.

Jarrod shook his head, smiling a little. "No. I just…" He dragged a hand across his face, wiping away the wetness that had gathered in his eyes.

Sioned rubbed his back comfortingly. "No need to explain, Jarrod. You know, Da always said 'The darkest hour is that preceding the break of day'. Tomorrow will be brighter."

Jarrod leaned over and kissed her. "And who am I to dispute your father's wisdom?"

The kettle on the stove started to whistle and Sioned got up to take it off the stove. Jarrod stepped behind and put his arms around her. "I love you, Sioned," he whispered in her ear.

"And I love you, Jarrod," she whispered just as softly. "And when we're together, I think we can weather any storm."

He knew she was right and Jarrod's heart found a measure of peace.

.

.

A grey morning a few weeks later, Jarrod was experiencing a feeling of foreboding. It was subtle but something he just couldn't shake. As he got ready for the day, Jarrod tried to pin down where the feeling was coming from. It wasn't Sioned; she'd seen the doctor only yesterday and he was pleased with the health of both mother and baby. It wasn't work; his evaluation of his new employee had been an accurate one and Jarrod hadn't even needed to make the proposal for him to buy into the business, Michael came to him with a well-thought out plan all on his own. He was caught up on all his paperwork and the shipping business was running smoothly. So there was no need to be feeling so uneasy.

Jarrod sat at the table with his cup of coffee and the morning paper. He briefly skimmed the classified section and was about to turn the page when one of the ads caught his eye.

JARROD - NEED YOU TO COME HOME. MOTHER GRAVELY ILL. - NICK

Jarrod's heart froze. He had no doubt the message was meant for him and it shook him to the core. He folded the paper and quickly left the dining room, walking into the parlour where Sioned was knitting a blanket. She looked up when he sat beside her and immediately put her task aside.

"Jarrod, what is it?"

He took her hand in his. "I need to go to Stockton."

Sioned's brown eyes searched his face. "What happened, Jarrod?"

Jarrod took a deep breath. "It's my mother. There was a message in the paper asking me to come home. The _Raven_ is sailing in a few hours back to San Francisco where I'll catch a train. I can be in Stockton in a few days." He rested his hand on her belly and felt the baby kick. "I won't leave you here alone, Sioned. I'll ask one of the neighbours…"

Sioned shook her head vehemently. "You'll not be going by yourself, Jarrod, I'm going with you."

"Sioned, you shouldn't be travelling in your condition," Jarrod tried to argue.

"I'm with child," she told him defiantly, "not sick. The baby's not due for at least three weeks and there's sure to be competent physicians where we're going."

"Now, Sioned-"

"Don't you 'now Sioned' me. You said yourself you'll not be leaving me alone, and the best way to do that is take me with you." Sioned glared at him, brown eyes snapping.

"All right," Jarrod gave in, knowing she'd just book passage on her own and follow if he tried to leave her behind. "Pack some things for both of us and I'll go talk to the captain then tell Michael he's in charge for the next little while." He kissed her softly on the cheek. "I'm glad I'll have you with me," he admitted. "I don't really want to do this on my own."

Sioned turned her head slightly so she could kiss his lips. "I'll always be by your side, Jarrod," she promised. Jarrod pulled her close and held her, trying not to think the worst of what was to come.


	15. Chapter 15

Door slamming behind him, Nick strode into the foyer. "Audra? Silas?" he called, his voice booming throughout the house.

Audra hurried from upstairs and started coming down. "Nick, keep your voice down!" she chastised him.

Nick took off his hat and threw it on the table in the foyer. "I saw Dr. Merar's buggy outside," he stated, ignoring the rebuke. "Any change with Mother?"

Audra shook her head, eyes growing bright. "No. He just stopped by to see if there was any improvement, but…" A tear rolled down her cheek and Nick pulled her into his arms.

"Hey, now," he said gently, "none of that. Mother'll be waking up any time, just you wait and see."

It had been over a week since their mother had been thrown from her horse. When Misty Girl showed up at the barn without her, a search was instigated and Victoria was brought home, unconscious, bleeding from a large gash to her head and a broken arm. Nick tried to push away the memory of seeing his mother still and pale with the jagged break of bone sticking through the skin. The doctor was there quickly and set the break, but infection set in and they'd been battling fever and the effects of concussion ever since. Despite their best efforts, Victoria still hadn't woken. Nick hated feeling powerless, but he was worried his mother was slipping away and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Audra kept her head against his chest. "I wish Jarrod was here."

Nick closed his eyes, trying to banish the moisture that was threatening. "Yeah, I know, honey, me too." Many were the times he'd wanted to take off and search for his older brother, but even the Pinkertons didn't have enough information to tell him where to start.

"Do you think he got our message?"

Nick wished he would have come up with the idea of placing ads in every paper across the country sooner. But with this crisis, Heath did think of it, stating his certainty that no matter where he was, it would reach Jarrod's eyes and he would know his family needed him.

"I don't know, Audra, it's been five days since we first ran it. There's no way of telling where he is or if he even saw it."

They heard the door open and turned to find Heath entering the house.

"Saw the doctor's buggy. How is she?"

Nick just shook his head and they waited in silence for the doctor to come downstairs.

Dr. Merar joined them a few minutes later.

"Doc?" Heath asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Well, her fever's a bit better," the physician told them, "and the swelling on her arm went down enough for me to cast it. I just wish she'd come around. The longer she's unconscious…"

"But I can get her to take some water or broth," Audra told him. "Doesn't that mean something?"

Dr. Merar gave her a comforting smile. "It means you're taking good care of her, Audra. Unfortunately, swallowing is mostly reflex, and it doesn't tell us much about the severity of the head wound." He patted Audra's arm. "Make sure you all get some rest and I'll be by again tomorrow."

"Thanks, doc." Nick walked him to the door and saw him out.

"I'm gonna go sit with Mother for a while," Heath announced, "wasn't getting much work done anyway."

Nick and Audra watched him walk slowly up the stairs before Nick turned to his little sister. "Honey, you need to get some rest," he ordered in his best big brother voice, "you were up all last night and the night before. Heath or I'll stay with Mother tonight."

"But you have the ranch to run," Audra protested as Nick propelled her toward the stairs.

"Don't you worry about that," Nick said firmly. "Now get."

Audra gave in and headed upstairs as well. Nick stood at the bottom of the staircase for a few moments, not really looking at anything, before striding into the parlour and pouring himself a drink. He tossed it back and poured another, this time just staring into its amber depths.

He set the glass down when he heard the knock on the door and took a deep breath to compose himself before answering. It wouldn't do to have anyone see big, tough Nick Barkley all worried, he thought as he opened the door.

"Jarrod," Nick breathed, not sure if he was seeing things.

"Hello, Nick." Jarrod stood on the porch quietly, face unreadable.

"Jarrod…" Nick said again, then yelled, "Jarrod!" and grabbed his big brother in an enormous bear hug that lifted him off his feet. "Thank god you're home!"

.

.

Jarrod rented a buggy at the livery when they got to Stockton. A few people recognized him and gave their best wishes to take to Victoria and Jarrod kept his replies to a minimum. He was lost in his own thoughts, emotions almost overwhelming him as he took in the sights of the valley he loved. He worried about what kind of reception he would receive when he arrived at the house, worried about his brothers and sister, and most of all, worried for his mother.

Sioned touched his arm. "From what people said in town, your mam's still with us."

"I know."

Sioned gave a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe they've forgiven you, Jarrod. After all, your brother did place the ad asking you to come home."

Jarrod nodded. "Maybe. It's just…" He gave her a rueful smile. "I still don't know if I've forgiven myself."

Resting her head against his shoulder, Sioned said, "Sometimes that can be the hardest of all. But you'd be having a harder time forgiving yourself if you hadn't come."

"Whoever said you weren't as smart as you are beautiful?" Jarrod teased, thankful again she'd insisted on coming with him.

"Now why would anyone be saying something as untrue as that?" she shot back and Jarrod leaned over to kiss her forehead.

Sioned left him with his thoughts and her presence was all Jarrod needed to reassure himself that no matter what, he wasn't alone. He slowed the horse to a walk as they passed through the large iron gate leading to the house.

"Now you said your family was well off, but you never said they lived somewhere as grand as this," Sioned said in amazement.

Jarrod didn't answer as he pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the white mansion and gazed at his family home, the home he hadn't seen for over a year. He fought down the urge to turn and drive back to town and tried to steel himself for whatever was to come. Getting down, he helped Sioned out of the buggy and escorted her slowly to the front door. He hesitated, unsure, and Sioned's hand slipped into his. Jarrod smiled at her, grateful for the reassurance as he lifted her hand and kissed it, then turned and knocked on the door.

In a moment, he heard footsteps and took a deep breath to compose himself as the door opened.

"Jarrod."

Jarrod took in the sight of his brother Nick, standing tall in the doorway, deep shadows under his eyes and lines of worry on his face.

"Hello, Nick."

Jarrod stood, bracing himself for the door to be slammed in his face or Nick's fist to catch him in the chin, but was unprepared when Nick yelled, "Jarrod… Jarrod!" and grabbed him in an enormous bear hug that lifted him off his feet. "Thank god you're home!"

Jarrod searched Nick's haggard face. He had been unsure of what type of greeting he'd get, but Nick's wholehearted welcome caught him off guard. "How's Mother, Nick?" he asked quietly.

Nick shook his head. "Don't know, Jarrod. She's still hanging on, but…" Then Nick's eyes spotted Sioned standing beside Jarrod. "I can tell you about it inside." He stepped aside and Jarrod ushered Sioned through the door. Nick extended his hand. "You must be Sioned."

Sioned took it, a puzzled look on her face. "Now, from Jarrod's description, you can only be his brother Nick, but how is it you're knowing my name?"

Jarrod was wondering that himself as Nick led them into the parlour and gestured for Sioned to sit.

"Well, we've been trying to find Pappy here for months," he explained. "Only thing the detectives came up with was him marrying you." Nick turned to Jarrod and grabbed his hand. "I see congratulations are in order, big brother."

"Thanks, Nick." Jarrod swallowed, trying to speak past the lump in his throat. He was having a hard time dealing with the emotions Nick's warm reception set off and decided to sort them out later. Right now, their mother was the first priority. "Nick, can you tell me what happened with Mother?"

Nick shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Somehow, she got thrown when she was out riding. Hit her head pretty hard and broke her arm. She's been running a real high fever and hasn't really woken up. Doc's still not sure if she's gonna…" Nick stopped, unable to continue and Jarrod placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Nick reached up and grabbed his brother's hand tightly. "I made Audra go lie down. Heath's with Mother right now."

"Nick…" Jarrod started, but he didn't know how to finish.

"Go to her, Pappy," Nick told him.

Jarrod turned to Sioned. "Sioned…"

Sioned smiled at him. "Go, Jarrod, I'll be fine. I'll be happy just sitting on something that isn't moving for a change."

Nick gave him a shove toward the stairs. "Get going. I'll make sure this little woman of yours is comfortable."

Jarrod gave Sioned a kiss on the forehead, then took the stairs two at a time. He paused outside the door to his mother's room, took a deep breath and went in.

Heath turned at the sound of the door opening and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth when he saw who it was. "Knew you'd get here, big brother."

Jarrod just stared at Heath, at the brother who'd been seriously wounded by a gunshot last time he'd seen him. "Heath, I…"

Heath got up and gave Jarrod a welcoming hug. "It's okay, Jarrod. We're just glad you're home." Keeping an arm around his brother's shoulders, Heath led Jarrod to the chair beside Victoria's bed.

Jarrod sat slowly and reached his hand out, unsure, and then stroked the damp hair on his mother's forehead. He could feel the warmth radiating from her, her face pale except where a flush of fever coloured her cheeks.

"Fever's gone down some," Heath told him, "but we're still trying to keep her cool." He indicated the basin of water and cloth beside the bed. "I'll leave you alone. Be downstairs if you need anything."

"Thanks, Heath." Jarrod didn't take his eyes off the petite woman lying in the bed, but felt the brotherly hand on his shoulder.

"Welcome home, Jarrod."

As he heard his brother leave, Jarrod picked up the damp cloth and began bathing the brow of the woman who'd given birth to him. His other hand cradled hers gently.

"I love you, Mother," he said in an anguished whisper. "Please, please come back to us. The family needs you. I need you." Jarrod tried to blink away the tear that threatened to fall. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused. I… I need to tell you how much I've missed you, how much I love you. Please let me have the chance to make it up to you." Jarrod bowed his head and this time didn't fight as the tears started to fall.


	16. Chapter 16

She had been drifting for a long time, floating through a sea of darkness, adrift without an anchor. Pain came and went, gentle hands cooled the heat she felt, and the murmur of voices hovered nearby, but even with all that, she felt separate, alone. Like there was nothing that could tie her to this mortal world anymore.

Then something tickled the edge of her awareness. A voice that seemed familiar. It was a voice that was much loved, a voice she wasn't sure if she'd ever hear again. _Tom,_ she thought. _Tom, is that you?_ But the voice was wrong, the timbre not quite right to be that of her beloved husband. She drifted closer, trying to hear.

"I love you, Mother, I need you. You've always wanted to be a grandmother and if you come back to us, soon you'll have your chance."

The voice had to belong to one of her sons, but it spoke of a grandchild and none of her children were married…

Something inside her clicked into place. One of them _was_ married…

"Jarrod…"

Victoria's grey eyes blinked opened and were met with brilliant blue.

"You had us worried, lovely lady." Jarrod's face was tired and careworn, but his smile shone like the dawning of a new day.

"Jarrod, how…" she barely managed to whisper, but speaking took too much effort.

"Shhh…" Jarrod's hand reached up to caress her forehead as sleep overtook her again and Victoria fell into a deep, contented slumber.

When she awoke again, Audra was sitting in the chair beside the bed, reading. Victoria gave a low moan as she tried to sit.

"Mother!" Audra quickly put down her book and grabbed a pillow to help prop her mother into a sitting position. "How do you feel?"

Victoria attempted to raise her hand to her forehead, but found it too heavy to lift. "I don't…quite remember…what happened."

Audra brought her a cool glass of water and helped her drink. "Well, Dr. Merar gave us a list of questions to ask you when you woke up. Do you remember your name?"

"Victoria Barkley."

"And who am I?"

"My daughter, Audra."

"Do you know where you are?"

"In my room at the ranch."

"What year is it?"

"1877."

"And who is the president?"

"Rutherford Hayes." Now Victoria knew why Nick started barking the answers whenever she had to ask him the same set of seemingly inane questions after a head injury.

Suddenly, she remembered having her oldest son sitting by her side and started to ask Audra where Jarrod was. But, no, Jarrod couldn't have been there. Her fevered mind must have conjured up the vision and she closed her eyes tightly, deciding not to say anything. Instead, she asked, "What happened?"

"Misty Girl threw you," Audra told her. "You've been unconscious for almost a week. We thought-" Audra's eyes brimmed with tears and she leaned forward to give her mother a gentle hug. "Oh, Mother, we thought we were going to lose you."

Victoria brought up the arm that wasn't encased in plaster and rubbed her daughter's back. "I'm still here, Audra. I'm not going anywhere."

Audra sat back up and wiped the tears off her face. "Well, you must be hungry," she said, smiling brightly. "Silas has some chicken soup simmering on the stove. Would you like some?"

The thought of Silas' cooking made Victoria's stomach rumble. "I would love some, dear."

"I'll be right back. And I'll make sure the boys know you're awake." Audra leaned over again and kissed Victoria's cheek before leaving the room.

Victoria rested her head back against the pillows. For someone who'd apparently just spent a week unconscious, she felt remarkably clear-headed. She thought back to the vision she had of Jarrod at her bedside. She could have sworn she heard his voice, felt him touch her forehead…

"I see our lovely lady is back with us."

She had to be hallucinating again. That couldn't really be her eldest child, leaning against the doorframe with that oh-so-charming smile on his lips.

"Jarrod," she whispered. "Jarrod… it can't be. I thought I imagined you."

"I'm right here, Mother," he confirmed as he walked over to the side of the bed, picking up her good hand and kissing it before sitting in the chair beside her. "How are you feeling?"

Victoria's lip trembled as tears came to her eyes. She reached around and pulled Jarrod's head to her chest. "I've never been better. Oh, Jarrod, darling, it's so good to have you home."

Jarrod's breath caught in his throat. "I'm so sorry, Mother, for all the pain I've caused."

Stroking his dark hair, Victoria kissed the top of his head like she had when he was a child and he brought all the troubles of his world to her. "You were forgiven long ago, Jarrod," she assured him as he lifted his head to meet her eyes. She smiled and wiped off the wetness that glistened on his cheek. "But how did you know to come, sweetheart?"

Jarrod smiled and shook his head, looking at his hands. "It was Nick and Heath. They placed ads in papers all over the country, telling me I needed to come home. I knew something was wrong and when I saw it, I knew I couldn't stay away."

Victoria cupped his face in her palm. "Never leave us again, Jarrod. You're my son and I'll always love you, no matter what."

Audra bustled into the room carrying a laden tray. Her face lit up when she saw Jarrod with their mother. "Now that just makes everything perfect."

Jarrod moved out of the way so Audra could set the tray down. "I should go; I'll probably just be in the way. And I should spend some time with my wife before she thinks I've forgotten about her."

Victoria recalled what Jarrod said to her the first time she woke. "Jarrod," she asked, a sparkle in her eyes, "did you say something about my becoming a grandmother earlier?"

Jarrod got that proud look that only an expectant father could. "Yes, indeed I did, lovely lady. I'll bring up Sioned to meet you after you've had your lunch." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I can't tell you how good it feels to be back home," he said softly. "I'll do my best to deserve your love and forgiveness, I promise."

Jarrod left his mother's room and leaned back against the wall. He hadn't really had time to process all the feelings his homecoming stirred in him, but now, with his mother's life out of danger, it started to hit him. They had forgiven him; his siblings' welcomes told him how much they cared and his mother's reaction only strengthened the acceptance he felt.

Hearing the front door slam and Nick's enthusiastic yell of "Mother!" Jarrod decided to go down the back stairs. He could tell from Nick's reaction that there wasn't any lingering resentment, but Jarrod still had feelings of guilt for what he put his family through; not only on that night, but also with the worry he'd caused by his long absence and didn't feel like facing his brother's exuberance right then.

He found Silas in the kitchen, humming to himself. Jarrod paused on the landing, experiencing yet another pang of remorse. He thought back to the aftermath of the mock trial, when he found Silas and Ciego tied in the tack room. Both men had been visibly shaken, but Silas worst of all, beside himself with fear for the family he loved as his own.

"Morning, Mr. Jarrod," Silas greeted warmly when he saw the dark-haired man standing there. "I was just fixing a tray for your wife. She hasn't eaten much today and I thought some fresh biscuits and jam might tempt her appetite."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, Silas." Jarrod came the rest of the way down the stairs and stood, trying to think of what to say.

Silas sensed the tension and asked, "Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Jarrod?" not turning from the pot of tea he was preparing.

"Silas, what happened that night… there's just no way I can tell you how much I regret what took place." Jarrod couldn't face him, couldn't face the man who was confidant, mentor and family, and turned to rest his hand against the wall. "I should never have involved anyone, I should have told you to take Mother and Audra away for the evening, to town, visiting, anywhere but here that night."

Jarrod felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and turned to meet warm brown eyes full of compassion and forgiveness. "Mr. Jarrod, you did what you had to do. Now I'm not saying you weren't a bit shortsighted, but you did what was needed. What that general did to those innocent people in Mayville, now that was unforgivable. And helping kill poor Mr. Lincoln… I'd have done anything you asked to help bring that man to justice."

"But I didn't ask."

"No, you didn't, and I don't suppose you'll make that mistake again." Silas smiled. "Just glad to have you home, Mr. Jarrod. It hasn't been the same around here since you've been gone."

Jarrod gave a grateful nod. "Thanks, Silas."

Silas turned back to the table. "Now I think the tea's ready, I'll just take this off to the library for your missus."

Jarrod forestalled him with an upraised hand. "No, let me do that. I was just on my way to find her myself." He took the tray before Silas could protest and made his way to the library.

He found Sioned on the settee, feet outstretched and a book in her hand.

"I see you've made yourself at home," Jarrod observed, setting the tray down on the small table.

"I'd be hard put not to." Sioned smiled and put the book down as Jarrod sat beside her. "Everyone's been doing their best to make me welcome, though I think they don't really be knowing what to say to me."

Jarrod chuckled and put his arm around her and Sioned rested her head on his shoulder. "Well, it's not every day a new member gets introduced to the family."

"Or a prodigal returns," she replied with a knowing look.

Jarrod pressed his lips to her forehead. "That too. Now, Silas sent you some tea and biscuits. Apparently you haven't been eating."

"I've not been feeling very hungry this morning," Sioned told him, but acquiesced when Jarrod gave her a stern look. "Maybe a biscuit and a spot of tea."

Jarrod rose to pour her a cup.

"Jarrod, I've been wondering, why is your brother calling you 'Pappy'?"

Jarrod paused and turned to her, his smile a bit self-conscious. "You would have to ask, wouldn't you?"

Sioned just smiled as he handed her the teacup and set the plate of biscuits beside her. "Aye, Jarrod, it's a wife's duty to be knowing everything about her husband."

Jarrod perched himself on the arm of a chair, gathering his thoughts. "It was back, oh, almost twenty years ago, I guess. Nick was always a handful and I took it upon myself to try and, well, rein him in, I suppose you'd say." He chuckled. "This one time, I can't even remember what he'd done, but he didn't want to face Mother and Father, so he decided to run away from home." Jarrod paused, seeing a similarity to how he'd reacted just over a year ago.

"Anyway, I caught him before he could get very far, pulled him off his horse and gave him a lecture about owning up to responsibilities. He tried to knock me down and told me I wasn't his pappy and couldn't tell him what to do, but I managed to get him to think about how Mother and Father would feel if he were to leave. Later, he told me…" Jarrod had to pause again and compose himself, truly understanding the import of those words he's spoken to his brother all those years ago. "He told me I wasn't one yet, but that I'd make a good pappy someday," Jarrod finished quietly. "He's called me that ever since."

Sioned was going to say something, but set her cup down abruptly, a look of pain on her face. Jarrod knelt down in front of her.

"Sioned, honey, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I think…" Sioned paused to catch her breath. "I think the baby might be coming."

"But you said a couple weeks…"

Sioned shook her head and smiled. "You ought to be knowing babies come on their own schedule, Jarrod, and-" Her face stiffened again.

Jarrod put a hand under her arm and helped his wife to her feet. "Let's get you upstairs," he said gently, trying to banish the squadron of butterflies invading his stomach. Supporting her carefully, Jarrod walked Sioned out of the study and through the foyer.

Heath burst through the front door, a wide grin on his face. "Heard Mother's awake-" He stopped suddenly when he saw pain on Sioned's face and the look of concern on Jarrod's. He moved to support Sioned from the other side. "What's wrong?"

Sioned tried to swat the over-helpful men away. "Nothing is wrong. I'm not broken, I'm just-" Another contraction cut her words short.

"Having a baby," Jarrod finished for her. "Heath, can you send someone to fetch Dr. Merar? I don't know if anyone's been to tell him Mother's awake, but he's got one more patient here and another on the way."

"I'll send one of the men right away, Jarrod," Heath assured him, his grin growing even wider. "Boy howdy, I knew when I saw the sunrise this morning it was gonna be a mighty fine day."


	17. Chapter 17

One look at Jarrod and Audra banished him from the room. "You worrying and pacing isn't going to help, big brother," she chided him with a smile. "Sioned and I'll be fine until the doctor comes."

"Sioned…" Jarrod turned to his wife but she just seconded her new sister-in-law's words.

"Get on with you," she admonished firmly. "You can't be helping now." Her brown eyes softened. "I'll be all right, Jarrod."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I'll be close by if you need me," he promised. "I love you, Sioned."

"And I love you too, Jarrod."

Jarrod turned to his sister as he left. "Take care of them, Audra."

Audra smiled. "I will, Jarrod. Go sit with Mother. I'm sure she's almost as anxious as you are."

Jarrod had to chuckle, knowing she was probably right. He walked down the hall and tapped on the door to his mother's room.

"Come in."

He stepped inside to find Victoria sitting in bed, propped up by a mound of pillows. "All alone, lovely lady? Would you like some company?"

"I'd love some. Your wife's having the baby?"

Jarrod sat in the chair by the bed with a smile. "It looks that way. I've been chased away by both Sioned and Audra, so I'm yours until you get tired of me. Or until they let me back in the room. Whichever comes first."

Victoria reached out her hand and Jarrod took it in his. "Oh, I think someone will come for you long before I'm tired of your company, sweetheart," she told him, smiling. "Your brothers just went to clean up, and then I'm sure they'll be back and they can keep us both distracted. Now," she said, sitting a little straighter, "tell me about this Sioned of yours."

Jarrod's eyes shone with love at the mention of his wife. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, Mother," he told her fondly. "I have no doubt you'll love her as much as I do. She's warm, gentle, compassionate, but her temper can sure rival Nick's on a bad day. I don't think I'd want to place odds on which one would back down first." He smiled and shook his head ruefully. "I actually thought she'd stay behind while I came here. I should have known better than to even ask."

"I'm so looking forward to getting to know her, Jarrod. Could you tell me how you met?"

Jarrod chuckled, remembering that first meeting in Cheyenne. "She tripped over me."

"Well, that's a new way to get a pretty girl to notice you."

Jarrod turned to see Nick lounging against the door, Heath standing beside him. Both his brothers wore knowing grins.

"Maybe you should try it sometime, Nick," Heath suggested, face growing serious. "Might get one to stop long enough so you can actually ask her out." Heath ignored Nick's glower and Jarrod had to hold in a laugh. "So, Jarrod, just for Nick's benefit, what did you do after you tripped the lady?"

Jarrod had truly missed his brothers' teasing, both of him and each other. "Her father hired me to escort the two of them to Deadwood."

Nick stared at his older brother in disbelief and Heath gave a low whistle. "That's a long way from lawyering in San Francisco."

"From what I hear, that's a hell of a place, Jarrod," Nick finally said. "You're lucky you got out of there with your skin intact." Then he grinned. "Meet anyone famous? Bill Hickock, Calamity Jane?"

"Sorry, brother Nick," Jarrod said. "We spent most of our time working our claim and were on our way back to Cheyenne when Hickock was shot."

"Now that's a sight I'd like to see." Heath's grin was infectious. "Our big brother the lawyer, panning for gold."

"I'm sure I've done a lot of things you'd like to see, Heath," Jarrod told him, trying to laugh along, but feeling uncomfortable being described as 'the lawyer' after having left that all behind. "I might even tell you about some of them sometime."

"You mentioned Sioned's father, Jarrod," Victoria cut in and Jarrod's expression turned more sober.

"Rhys Llewellyn passed away about a month ago. He was a good man." Jarrod was quiet. "He always treated me like a son," he said finally, before growing silent.

Victoria clasped her son's hand and Nick and Heath bowed their heads in respect for the man their brother obviously held in high regard, giving him a moment.

Nick was the one to break the somber mood. "So what else have you been up to, Pappy? Other than tripping defenseless women and gold prospecting?" Nick fixed his brother with a stern glare. "Even the Pinkertons could find hide nor hair of you, except when you got yourself hitched."

"Did this and that before I signed on to a cattle drive. That's how I ended up in Cheyenne." Jarrod shrugged and smiled. "Sioned wanted trees, so after we came back from Deadwood, we went to Oregon. Rhys and I set up a little bar and a shipping company with the gold we discovered. Not much else to tell."

They heard a tap on the door and turned to find Dr. Merar. Jarrod stood quickly.

"How is she, Doc? Have you seen her yet?"

Dr. Merar placed a reassuring hand on Jarrod's arm. "Your wife is doing fine. It'll likely be a while, this being her first child, but she seems to be a strong woman." He laughed softly. "You picked yourself a fiery one, Jarrod. I thought I'd give her some space and come check on my other patient. If you'll excuse me, boys." He looked at them expectantly and they took the hint, moving downstairs to the parlour.

Nick headed for the drinks. "Heath?" he asked, holding up a bottle. "I don't think I need to ask Pappy, I'm sure he'll need a few before this day is out."

Heath nodded and Jarrod just shook his head, smiling. But he accepted the drink Nick offered and took a long sip.

Nick watched as his older brother paced to the French doors and stared outside. They hadn't had much time to talk since Jarrod had shown up on the front step and there was still a lot to be said between them.

Nick walked up behind Jarrod, Heath giving his dark-haired siblings the space they needed.

"Jarrod, about what happened that day, what I said…" Nick trailed off, unsure how to continue.

Jarrod shook his head, staring into his glass. "Forget it, Nick. I deserved every hit, every word. I took my family for granted, thought about the greater good before the good of the people I love. But never again, Nick." He looked up and met Nick's hazel eyes. "Never again." Jarrod continued to stare outside, drink forgotten.

"No, Pappy, you didn't deserve that. Any one of us would have done the same as you."

"Would you, Nick?" Jarrod's gaze was far away. "Would you really have agreed without ensuring Mother and Audra's safety?"

Nick shrugged. "You said yourself, Jarrod, if they were in any real danger the whole thing would be called off. You couldn't know Heath and I would be home early. You couldn't know Heath was going to jump through that window or Mother would fall down the stairs. Sure, it kept going, but Mother and Heath were taken care of while someone went for the doc right away." He gave a small snort. "And I was never in any real danger."

"But I never should have let them involve you at all," Jarrod insisted.

Nick put his hand on Jarrod's shoulder. "You did what you needed to, Jarrod." He glanced over at Heath, who came to join them.

"Nick's right, big brother," Heath affirmed in his quiet voice. "We all make mistakes and we all have to live with them. That don't make us right or wrong, it just makes us human."

"And you're home," Nick announced, "and there's another little Barkley on the way." He clapped Jarrod on the back. "Now everything can get back to the way it was."

"Can we ever really go back, Nick?" Jarrod wanted to know. He finished his drink and walked back into the parlour, setting down his glass.

"Well, why not?" Nick demanded, following. "You're back home where you belong, you gotta know we want you here."

Jarrod didn't answer, he just walked over to the fireplace and stood with his hand on the mantel. Nick put his hands on his hips and waited impatiently for Jarrod to respond.

"It's not that easy, Nick," the eldest Barkley said finally.

"And again, why not?"

Heath put a calming hand on the dark rancher's shoulder. "I think what Jarrod's trying to say is things _are_ different, Nick. I mean, he's got a wife, a child on the way…" All three men looked reflexively toward the top of the stairs. Heath gave Jarrod a slight grin. "He's got his own family to think of, not just us anymore."

"But surely you're coming back to Stockton, Jarrod," Nick insisted. That was something he'd never considered; if Jarrod came home, that he wouldn't come home to stay.

"It's not my decision to make, Nick," Jarrod told him with a thankful look to Heath. "I'd need to talk it over with Sioned. She's got an equal stake in this, too." He pushed away from the fireplace. "I'm going outside for a bit. If anything happens, I won't be any further than the barns."

Both ranchers watched as their older brother grabbed his hat and left the house.

"He's gonna stay, Heath," Nick informed the blond. "There's no way I'm giving up my big brother without a fight or my name's not Nick Barkley."

.

.

Jarrod leaned against the corral and put his foot on the bottom rail. He watched the horses move around the enclosure, taking in the sights and sounds of home. Or, at least, what used to be home.

He meant what he said to Nick, that it was Sioned's choice where they made their home as much as it was his. More so, even. As much as he loved the valley, loved his family, Jarrod had to admit he loved the woman he married and was giving birth to his child at that very moment as much or more. If Sioned wanted to stay up north or move anywhere else for that matter, he would follow.

"_And everything can get back to the way it was."_

Jarrod sighed. If he was going to be honest with himself, it was that statement of Nick's that gave him the most pause. Returning to Stockton would involve certain expectations about his role in the family and in the community. Jarrod had built enough of a reputation as a lawyer that it would be hard for people to fathom that he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to practice law again. It would be much easier to head back to Portland and return to the modest life he and Sioned had carved out for themselves.

Jarrod stood there for what seemed like hours, thinking about the future and trying not to worry about the woman who was his future. Not that he really thought he'd be any help if he was with her, but standing out there, not knowing, waiting for word on Sioned and the baby was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. He considered going back into the house more than once, but he knew how difficult it would be for everyone to leave him alone and Jarrod didn't really feel like anyone's company, so he stayed where he was, standing at the edge of the corral.

"Jarrod." He turned sharply at the soft voice behind him and saw Audra, holding a small bundle in her arms. "Say hello to your son."

Jarrod reached out and gingerly took the blanket wrapped form. Holding the precious bundle carefully, he stared at his newborn son, memorizing the tiny features and head of shockingly black hair. "He's beautiful," Jarrod whispered.

Audra slipped an arm around his waist and gazed at the baby with him. "The most beautiful baby I've ever seen, Jarrod," she agreed, a gentle smile on her face. "Now come with me and let's take you both back to his mama."

Jarrod looked sharply into his sister's blue eyes. "Sioned… is she all right?"

Audra gave him a reassuring squeeze. "She's fine, big brother, just tired. And wanting to see you."

Sioned was more than fine, she was positively glowing. "We have a son, Jarrod," she whispered happily when Jarrod carried the baby over to her and placed him back in her arms, Audra leaving to give them some privacy. Jarrod sat beside his wife and wrapped his arm around her. Pushing the damp hair off her forehead, he leaned over and gently kissed her.

"What should we name him, Sioned?" he asked, watching Sioned gaze at the precious little life she held, the life that was a part of both of them. "Rhys, after your father?"

"Oh, Jarrod, Da would love that." Sioned's eyes shone as she looked from her husband back to her baby. "Rhys Jarrod Barkley." She fixed Jarrod with a pointed look. "You will be giving him your name?" and it wasn't really a question.

Jarrod chuckled softly. "Yes, Sioned. Rhys Jarrod Barkley it is. A fine name for the fine son you've given me."

Sioned smiled at him. "Oh, I think you had a wee bit to do with it."

"Maybe a bit," he agreed with a smile of his own.

They sat in each other's loving arms for a long while, marvelling at Rhys' hair, his little nose, counting each and every one of his tiny toes and fingers.

Audra finally came by to chase Jarrod out. "Sioned needs to get some rest," she announced.

"Yes, ma'am," Jarrod said impudently with a wink to his wife. "Sioned, do you want me to leave our son with you or shall I take him for a bit?"

Sioned smiled gently and held out the baby, Jarrod cradling him reverently. "Just bring him back when he's getting hungry."

"I promise." Jarrod gave his wife a tender kiss and left the room, leaving Audra to help Sioned get settled.

.

Victoria was waiting impatiently. Howard had ordered her to stay in bed until he came to check on her the next day, along with Jarrod's wife and new baby. She insisted she felt fine, other than the expected aches and pains, but the doctor had been adamant. She debated getting up anyway to see her grandson, but how would that look, going against doctor's orders after scolding her sons so many times about that very thing?

So she sat and fretted. If they'd forgotten all about her, her children would regret it, she vowed. Victoria then amused herself with thoughts of ways to make them pay, from making Audra wear last year's dress to an upcoming social event, to giving Silas a vacation and putting her daughter in charge of the kitchen, to making the boys join her for Sunday tea with the ladies from church.

But everything was instantly forgiven when Jarrod tapped on the door, coming into her room and placing the sleeping baby in the crook of her good arm.

"Oh, Jarrod, he's beautiful," she breathed. "Have you named him yet?"

Jarrod nodded. "Rhys, after Sioned's father."

Victoria gazed down at the cherubic face. "He looks just like his father did when he was born," she said nostalgically. Her eyes sparkled as she looked back at Jarrod. "Blue eyes or brown?"

"Blue," Jarrod confirmed, his own azure eyes gleaming proudly, "but I'm told they could still darken. I certainly wouldn't object if they turned the same colour as his mother's."

Holding her first grandchild, Victoria knew a greater peace and contentment than she had in over a year. The return of her oldest son, combined with this remarkable gift, filled her heart with joy and she sent a prayer of thanks for the blessings in her life. Her family was all here, together, as it should be.

Then an uncomfortable thought crept slowly into her mind. She tried to ignore it, but it wormed its way in further, spoiling her feelings of happiness.

"Jarrod," she said slowly, "you haven't said and I haven't asked. Are you planning to stay?"

Jarrod looked up from his contemplation of his son and met his mother's concerned grey eyes. He hesitated a long while before answering.

"I don't know, Mother," he answered frankly. "When I came home, my only concern was for you. I honestly didn't know if anyone really wanted me back or if Nick just felt it was his duty to try to contact me when you were injured." Jarrod paused, groping for the right words. "I needed to see you, needed to let you know how much I missed you, how much I love you." He shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "I didn't think any further ahead than that."

"And now?" She had to ask the question, but feared its answer.

"I can't say, not yet." He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "It's something I have to discuss with Sioned and I think it might be best to wait a day or two." Jarrod grinned and his eyes twinkled mischievously. "You haven't even met Sioned yet, Mother. Maybe you won't be able to stand the sight of each other and you'll be happy to see us leave."

"Oh, Jarrod," Victoria scolded, laughing. "Somehow, I doubt that. But you're right, it certainly doesn't do to make hasty decisions." She smiled down at the sleeping baby. "Right now, I think I'll just enjoy the time I'm spending with my son and grandson."

Jarrod put his arm around her shoulders and three generations of Barkleys sat together in quiet contentment.


	18. Chapter 18

Contrary to Jarrod's teasing, Victoria and Sioned hit it off immediately. Sioned felt an instant connection to the Barkley matriarch, easily seeing where some of the qualities she so loved in Jarrod had come from. The past few days made Sioned realize how much she missed having family around her since her father died. Jarrod was wonderful and she would never feel alone married to him, but having others around, especially with a new baby, added an extra level of comfort.

Sioned settled back in the rocking chair Nick found in the attic, holding her son close to her breast as he fed. _I wouldn't mind staying in Stockton,_ she thought, _and there isn't seeming to be any lingering animosity on anyone's part towards my Jarrod. I think we truly have a home here even though I don't know everyone well yet. _

But Jarrod hadn't brought it up and Sioned was reluctant to push, wanting to give him the space she knew he needed to work out his own feelings.

Pulling Rhys off, Sioned held him to her shoulder and rubbed his back until she heard a loud belch, then brought him back to the other side. A deep-throated chuckle came from the door and Sioned looked up to see Jarrod.

"I think our son gets his manners from his Uncle Nick." Jarrod's eyes glinted as he closed the door behind him and came over to give Sioned a kiss. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched them devotedly. "Sioned," he said after a bit, "I was wondering how long you wanted to stay here before heading back."

Sioned glanced at her husband before looking back to the baby who was starting to drift off to sleep. She'd hoped to get a sense of what Jarrod was thinking when she met his eyes, but he had one of his inscrutable expressions on and she couldn't tell what kind of answer he was hoping for. Sioned moved the now-sleeping baby and started to refasten her shirt, Jarrod coming over to transfer their son from her arms to his.

"Here, let me take him."

Sioned watched as Jarrod cuddled the baby for a few moments before kissing his forehead and laying him in the bassinet that had also been unearthed in the attic. She'd known Jarrod would be a good father even before meeting his family and, feeling the love that abounded in the white mansion, Sioned wanted her son to grow up surrounded by that love.

Readjusting her clothing, Sioned moved from the rocker to sit on the edge of the bed where Jarrod joined her.

"Do you want to be heading back, Jarrod?"

Jarrod put his arm around her and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Only when you feel up to travelling, honey, there's no rush. I received a wire from Portland yesterday and everything seems to be running smoothly."

"I think I should be rephrasing that," Sioned decided to clarify. "Do you want to be heading back at all? Or do you want to be staying here, with your family?"

"You're my family, Sioned," Jarrod told her. "You and our son."

"But that doesn't mean your mam and your brothers and your sister aren't family, too," she insisted. "It's not like I'll be making you chose between us, you silly man. You won't be getting rid of me that easy."

Jarrod had to smile. "As if I'd ever try," he told her with a kiss.

Sioned let him hold her for a few moments without saying anything. "Jarrod, do you want to stay?" she asked again.

Jarrod continued to hold her, not answering right away. "Yes. Yes, I do, Sioned. I've missed them more than I can say. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any reservations. I'm not the same man I was a year ago, too much has happened. Even though in some ways it feels like I've never left, I don't know that I can just pick up my life where I left it or even that I want to, but I know that's what people will expect. I keep thinking it would just be easier to go back to Oregon."

"Didn't you once say to me 'What's life without a little adventure'?" Sioned chided. "Where's the adventure in taking the easy way?" Sioned caressed his cheek with a gentle hand. "I'm thinking of that story you told me of you and your brother. How you were telling him to own up to his responsibilities and made him think about the people who loved him. I think it's high time for you to be taking your own advice, Jarrod Barkley."

Jarrod lightly kissed her forehead. "How did I get so lucky as to deserve you?"

"Now that's a thing I haven't quite figured out," Sioned teased, "but since it means I have you in return, I'll not be questioning it too hard."

Jarrod laughed along with her. "Are you sure there are enough trees around here for you?" he asked mischievously.

"Oh, I think I'll manage," she rejoined. "Not that I'm complaining, but the rain up in Portland was getting a wee bit excessive, even for me." She grew a bit more serious. "Jarrod, if you're worrying about your family's expectations, talk to them. Let them know how you're feeling. Unless I'm wrong, I think they'll be taking you any way they can get you."

Jarrod nodded. "I'll talk to them," he promised. "I just want you to be happy, Sioned."

"I will be, Jarrod, how could I not with such a fine man by my side, who's given me such a fine, strong son?"

He just chuckled and pulled her closer. "Well, there's no time like the present. I saw Mother and Audra in the parlour and my brothers should be home any minute. If we leave the door open, we'll hear the baby if he wakes up." He stood, extending a hand and helped Sioned to her feet. She took his arm and they headed down to the parlour.

As Jarrod walked with Sioned down the stairs, he suffered a growing uncertainty. _Do I want to take a chance on being told they don't want us here? _

He almost stopped and headed back upstairs, but instead, made himself put one foot in front of the other_. You're being foolish, _he chided himself._ They've made it clear they are no hard feelings and gone out of their way to make you and Sioned feel welcome. You want your family's love and forgiveness so badly, you're just making yourself think the worst. _ Still, the gnawing uneasiness only intensified when they approached his mother and sister sitting in the parlour.

"How's my grandson?" Victoria asked as Jarrod escorted his wife to the sofa and sat her down.

"He's just as perfect as a baby can be," Sioned answered as Jarrod sat beside her. "I'm sure he'll be sleeping for the next hour or so."

"Mother? Audra?"

All heads turned to the foyer. "Shhhh!"

"What?" Nick demanded loudly as he put his hat on the hall table.

Audra gave him an irritated look. "Could you keep it down, Nick? The baby's sleeping."

Heath, who was right behind Nick, grinned. "I wouldn't worry too much, sis. From my experience, newborn babies can sleep though just about anything, including freight trains like Uncle Nick here."

"And just what would you know about babies, Heath?" Nick wanted to know as the two ranchers joined everyone in the parlour.

Heath moved to stand by the fireplace. "I lived with a family for a while that had twelve kids. Didn't take long to figure out the ins and outs of surviving them." He looked at Jarrod and Sioned, amusement dancing in his eyes. "If you want my advice, Jarrod, half a dozen are plenty."

Jarrod glanced at Sioned, who was shaking her head, blushing and trying not to laugh all at the same time. "We'll take that under advisement, brother Heath," he said with a smile.

Jarrod took a deep breath and gathered the courage to voice what he'd come down to say. "Since we have you all here, Sioned and I have something we'd like to talk to you about." Everyone looked at them and Jarrod felt a curious rush, reminding him of chairing a shareholder's meeting or being in the courtroom. He continued. "We've been talking it over and…" He glanced at his wife, who was regarding him with a confident gaze. "Well, we've decided we'd like to make our home here. If you'll have us."

"Oh, Jarrod!" Audra squealed, flinging herself out of the chair and into her big brother's arms. He laughed as he returned the embrace.

"I'm glad you approve, honey."

"Well, I'd say this calls for a celebration," Nick stated exuberantly and strode off in the direction of the dining room.

"I'm so happy, sweetheart." Jarrod looked over to see his mother's face shining with happiness, a tear glistening in her eye.

Suddenly, a great weight lifted, a weight he'd been carrying around all those months since he'd left and Jarrod was hard pressed to hold back tears of his own. Sioned must have sensed it, for she gave his hand a gentle squeeze that he returned with affection.

Nick came back with a bottle and a tray full of glasses. "Just put this up a couple months ago," he boasted. "Nothing but the best for our big brother's homecoming." Uncorking the bottle, he began to fill the crystal.

"Last year's merlot?" Jarrod asked as he sniffed the rich red liquid after Nick passed out the glasses. "It's pretty good, but if you want the best, I'd go with the cabernet sauvignon from '74."

"Now, Jarrod, how can you say that?" Nick demanded. "That doesn't ever compare with-" He paused and fixed his older brother with a hard stare. "And just how would you know, anyway? We only uncellared the cabernet a little over a month ago."

Jarrod swirled the wine in his glass. "Didn't I mention owning a tavern in Portland? You think I'd serve anything but the best?" He raised his glass toward Nick in a toast, smiling as he took a sip.

Nick just shook his head and laughed. "Nope, reckon I can't say I'd ever think a thing like that." He lifted his glass in return. "To my big brother's excellent taste, as shown by his choice of wife, wine and home."

"Here, here," Heath seconded as they all drank.

"Speaking of Portland," Jarrod brought up, "I'll have to head up there sometime soon. Sell the house, figure out what we want to do with the business." He looked over at his wife. "Sioned, I don't think you need to come with me, I'm sure I can handle packing up the house on my own. But if you want to come, I know I can't stop you." His eyes twinkled merrily as Sioned blushed and cuffed his arm lightly.

"No, you go on. As much as I'd be liking to help, I don't think travelling with Rhys so young is a good idea. I'll be content to stay with your family while you're gone."

"I'll keep her busy, Jarrod." Audra beamed. "We can decorate the nursery and Sioned will probably want to redecorate your room a little. The two of us can even get your office in town ready for when you get back."

"My office?" Jarrod knew that subject would come up, he just didn't think it would come quite so soon.

"Of course." Audra missed the stiffness on Jarrod's face. "I mean, Mike Adams had to go through and get the files on the clients you asked him to take over, but everything else is still there, just waiting for you to come back."

"No, Audra," Jarrod said slowly. "I'm not planning to open up my practice again."

Victoria spoke up. "But, Jarrod, you love being a lawyer. The fire you have when you're arguing a case, when you find an injustice and just have to make it right. You can't just give that up."

"I _have_ to give that up, don't you see?" Jarrod rose and paced to the other side of the room. "If I took up my practice again, how long would it be before that drive to make things right takes over and I do something I regret? Take on the wrong case, take on the wrong crusade and hurt someone I love?" He paused, trying to put his reluctance into words that they'd all understand. "I don't trust myself not to be blinded by a just cause. After all, isn't that what justice is, blind? Blind to everything but necessity." His eyes challenged each of them, daring them to censure his decision. "And I won't put myself or anyone I love in that position again."

Jarrod could tell by their faces that he'd been right in what he told Sioned, that they expected him to pick up his life in the valley where he left it. He suddenly didn't want to face his family's reactions to his revelation and left the room abruptly, heading into the library. Jarrod rested his hand on the bookshelf, hanging his head. His mother was right; a fire did burn in him when he was fighting for justice, like when he continued his father's fight against the railroad or lobbied for fair treatment for immigrants like the Chinese. But he knew too well that fire, although it could warm and light the way, could also get out of control and consume everything in its path. And he wasn't sure if he could let it do one without risking the other.

"What do you plan on doing, Jarrod, after you move back?"

His mother's gentle tone made him turn and he smiled at her, trying to alleviate some of the concern on her face. "Well, I thought I'd ask Nick for a job on the ranch. Think he'll hire me?"

Her expression didn't change. "Jarrod, are you sure about this?"

Jarrod walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Yes, I am, Mother. I've had a long time to think about it. Now that doesn't mean I won't bail my brothers out of jail when the need arises or do the legal work for the ranch and the rest of our holdings." He chuckled ruefully. "I hate to think of all the contract snarls of Nick's I'll have to untangle."

Victoria patted his chest. "Oh, I think Nick's done an admirable job, considering. But he'll definitely be pleased to have all that taken off of his hands. We'll support you, Jarrod, whatever you decide. I just want you to be happy."

Jarrod leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I am, Mother. I have a beautiful wife and child, and now my family back. What more could any man ask for?"


	19. Chapter 19

Jarrod pushed back his hat and wiped the sweat off his brow before taking a drink from his canteen. He surveyed the milling cattle and breathed a sigh of relief. The roundup was almost complete and Jarrod was looking forward to heading back home to see the wife and child he'd been away from far too much in the past weeks. He shook his head as he recalled never thinking twice about the months he sometimes had spent away from home in years past, focused on work, and now even several days seemed like an eternity. Funny how what seemed important at one point was now trivial and the only thing Jarrod longed to do was go home and hold Sioned and little Rhys close in his arms.

Heath rode up and pulled Charger to a stop. "Well, big brother, that looks to be the last of them. There's still a few hours of daylight left and a bunch of the boys are heading into town. Gonna join us?"

Jarrod shook his head. "No, brother Heath, I've got an overdue engagement with a certain brown-eyed beauty and a little boy who's probably grown so much I won't even recognize him," he replied with a grin.

Heath gave an answering grin and reached over to clap him on the back. "Can't say as I blame you, Jarrod. I be hightailing it home too if I had someone like your Sioned waiting for me."

"It would either be that or find yourself on the wrong end of that tongue of hers."

Both men turned to find Nick beside them, shifting to sit sideways in his saddle. Jarrod just chuckled.

"And I don't think I'd love her half as much without it," he told them, "though I'm sure if I didn't make it home I could convince her that I was led astray by my baby brothers."

Both Nick and Heath rolled their eyes at the 'baby brother' remark.

"If I didn't know better, Nick, I'd say Jarrod here's kinda partial to staying on his wife's good side," Heath said with a devilish grin.

"And don't you forget it, boys," Jarrod retorted, laughing along with them, "even though sometimes making up can be a lot of fun too. But the five days I've been out here is five days too long and I'm heading in, unless there's anything else that needs to be done."

"Nope, all taken care of," Nick assured him, "you just head on home and tell Mother not to wait up. And give Sioned and Rhys a kiss from both of us."

"Well, I'll give Rhys a kiss from his uncles," Jarrod shot back, "but any kisses for my wife are coming from me." He gave his brothers a wink and a brisk wave and turned Jingo's head toward home.

Jingo settled into an easy lope, freeing Jarrod to let his mind wander. The last two months had seen his acceptance back into the family fold complete, helped along by the presence of the new additions to the family. When he'd returned from Portland after packing up the house and making arrangements to complete the sale of the tavern and the amalgamation of the shipping business into the vast Barkley holdings, he found Sioned and his mother had forged a strong bond and his wife and sister were also becoming fast friends.

Jarrod knew how quickly babies grew on an intellectual level, but returning to find the tiny infant who basically only ate and slept now smiling and cooing at his papa was a distinct surprise. Jarrod was completely enchanted by his son and when he returned to the house at the end of a hard day's work on the ranch, it was unusual to find him without little Rhys in his arms. He chuckled as he recalled Sioned scolding him, telling him he was going to spoil their son, and decided to do his best to continue spoiling both of them when he got home.

He urged Jingo a little faster and the sorrel readily picked up the pace, sensing he was on his way home to his comfortable barn. Jarrod thought back to when Nick informed him they were having an unplanned roundup not long after he'd returned from up north, due to some incidents of cattle rustling in the area. He had seriously considered begging off, not wanting to be away from Sioned and the baby if he could help it. After all, the financial and contractual workings of the numerous family holdings could certainly keep him occupied while his brothers were out on the range, giving Jarrod all the argument he needed to stay home. But the remembered look of disbelief on his rancher brothers' faces when he originally stated his intention of working the ranch instead of re-opening his law office, followed by Nick's derisive snort and comment to the effect that he couldn't be serious, compelled Jarrod to head out with the rest of the crew.

The past year of his life had been filled with physical labour, even working loading freight for the shipping business before they were doing well enough to hire more men, and when Nick eventually accepted the fact that Jarrod was serious and they shook hands to confirm it, Jarrod was hard pressed not to laugh at Nick's expression when he felt the strength of his big brother's grip.

Jarrod smiled to himself. He'd earned his younger brothers' respect for his ability with a horse and a rope over the past few days and any more teasing about his competence as a rancher would now be just that, good-natured banter among brothers. The other night around the fire, he'd even told them about being offered a job as a ranch foreman and to his surprise and their credit, Nick and Heath actually believed him. The bond between he and his brothers had been reforged, as strong or stronger than before.

But in spite of the satisfaction working beside his brothers brought, images of practicing law again intruded on Jarrod's thoughts now and then. As his mother said when the question first came up, he did love the challenge of being a lawyer, of puzzling his way through precedents to obtain the best possible outcome for his client or trying to stay one step ahead of opposing counsel. And quite frankly, outwitting a steer bent on straying from the herd wasn't much of an intellectual challenge.

Jarrod sighed inwardly. However much he missed the allure of the courtroom, he still didn't trust himself. The potential price was too high and Jarrod just wasn't willing to pay it. He'd have to be content with using his legal expertise to get the most out of any business negotiations he handled for the family.

Finally, the ranch outbuildings came into view and Jarrod pushed Jingo into an all-out gallop. Riding into the yard, Jarrod threw himself out of the saddle and tossed the sorrel's reins to Ciego as the stableman came over.

"¡Hola!, Señor Jarrod. I see you beat your brothers home, eh?"

Jarrod grinned and slapped Ciego on the back. "Yep. And now I want my wife, my son, a bath and a hot meal that doesn't consist of beans, in that order."

"Don't think you have long to wait for the first, señor," Ciego told him and Jarrod turned as he heard Sioned's voice.

"Jarrod, you're home!" His wife came across the yard and he met her halfway, grabbing her in his arms and kissing her passionately. "Let go!" she objected, laughing. "When was the last time you bathed? You're filthy!" Jarrod ignored her protests and, pulling her closer, kissed her again. "Jarrod!"

Jarrod finally relented with a chuckle and let Sioned go, but kept one arm around her waist as they walked to the house. "Now where's that son of ours?"

"Sleeping," she told him as they walked into the house. "And you'll not be getting near him until you've had that bath."

"You could help me," he whispered devilishly into her ear, making Sioned blush and she pushed him toward the stairs.

"Go," she ordered, but her brown eyes sparkled. "And I don't want to be seeing you until you smell better."

Jarrod tipped his hat to her and blew her another kiss as he headed up the stairs.

Half an hour later Victoria found Jarrod, freshly washed and shaved, sitting in the parlour, tickling Rhys under the chin to make him smile. Sioned was by his side on the sofa, knitting, casting fond glances at both of them and Victoria smiled at the vision of domestic tranquility.

"Jarrod, daring, it's good to have you home," she said as she came into the room. "Did your brothers come back with you?"

Jarrod looked up from his son and gave his mother a welcoming smile. "No, they decided to finish off the roundup by heading into town. They said not to wait up."

"And they weren't asking you to go with them?" Sioned asked, a frown on her face.

"Oh, they asked," Jarrod told her, returning to tickling the baby. "But I thought I'd have a better offer waiting for me here." He flashed his wife a raffish grin.

Sioned rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Jarrod, you know I'd not be minding if you go out with your brothers."

Jarrod leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Just keep in mind you said that next time we come in from an all-night poker game. Remember, I have a witness." He winked at his mother.

Suddenly, Rhys' face scrunched up and he let out a wail. Jarrod pulled his son close to his chest.

"Now what's the matter, my boy?" he asked soothingly, rocking the crying baby in his arms.

Sioned put down her knitting. "Oh, I'm thinking he's just hungry," she said and took their son from Jarrod. "I'll take him upstairs."

Victoria noticed that Jarrod's eyes didn't stop watching his wife and son until they disappeared from view at the top of the stairs, a contented smile on his lips.

"It makes me happy to see that you're so happy, sweetheart," she said, sitting on the chair across from him.

"I'm truly blessed, Mother," Jarrod agreed. "I even enjoyed the roundup, if you can believe it, though I'd much rather have been able to come home to Sioned and the baby every night."

"Even more than you would have enjoyed arguing a case in court?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Please don't go there, Mother. I've made my peace with my choice and I hope you can too."

Victoria rose and walked over to kiss her son on the cheek. "I just want you to be happy, Jarrod."

"I am, Mother, believe me. I can't think of any way my life could be more perfect."


	20. Chapter 20

Nick and Jarrod were leaning on the corral fence, watching Heath put one of the new cutting horses through its paces when they heard the sound of hoofbeats. Both men looked up to see one of the hands, Randy Tucker, pull his mount to a stop and leap off. Heath saw him too and gigged the chestnut over to the fence.

"Randy, where's the fire?" Nick called.

"Heard some news in town, thought you'd like to hear it right away." Randy was fairly bursting.

"Well, take a deep breath, son, and tell us what it is," Jarrod told the flushed young man, crossing his arms and leaning back.

"Seems the rustlers hit Wilson's last night. Old man Wilson must've caught them in the act and they shot him dead, right through the chest." Randy removed his hat in a gesture of respect. The Barkley brothers looked at each other and shook their heads in regret. "Anyways," Randy continued, "some of his hands spotted one of them this morning. The sheriff's gonna try and get him to roll on the rest of the gang before they hang him."

"Good," Nick said shortly. "I'll definitely feel better once they're all dancing at the end of a rope."

Heath dismounted and wrapped the reins around a rail. "Did anyone recognize the man they caught?"

"Not sure, but it was some Indian." Randy scratched his head, thinking. "Uh, Redhorse. Johnny Redhorse, I think the name was."

That name got both Jarrod and Nick's attention. Heath noticed the matching expressions on his dark haired siblings' faces and turned to the ranch hand. "Thanks, Randy. Why don't you go put up your horse? He looks a mite tuckered out."

Randy nodded and led his horse in the direction of the barn.

Jarrod turned to Nick. "Didn't we have an employee a few years back by the name of Jim Redhorse? And didn't he have a son?"

"Yep." Nick's face was grim. "Johnny. Kid'd be about seventeen now, I think. Hard working boy, too. I find it hard to believe a son of Jim's would be involved in rustling. That man was as straight an arrow as they come."

"Well," said Jarrod, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. "I'm sure whatever misunderstanding is going on will get straightened out."

"I hope so," Nick replied. "Or Johnny's gonna have to get a good lawyer before he finds himself with a noose around his neck."

Jarrod ignored the looks his brothers directed his way. He wasn't about to be drawn into that conversation. "It won't come to that if Johnny's innocent." He clapped Nick on the back and changed the subject. "Now the day's not getting any younger and this is a working ranch, isn't it, brother Nick. We should get back at it."

Nick and Heath looked at each other. "Y'know, I think the two of you can handle things," Nick told them. "Think I'll head into town and see Johnny. See what he has to say for himself and let him know the Barkleys'll stand behind him if he's innocent."

"Sounds good, Nick," Heath agreed. "Tell him to give us a holler if he needs anything."

Nick strode off to get his horse and Heath unhooked his reins from the rail. "Reckon I'll give this fella a break, too."

"Got some paperwork back in the house I've been avoiding," Jarrod said. "I guess now's as good a time as any to get it done. See you at supper."

Nick's words kept intruding on Jarrod's concentration as he tried to go through the payroll for one of the Barkley Sierra mines and he tried to shrug them off. He told himself there was more than one competent lawyer in Stockton, that Johnny wouldn't have to worry about getting a good defense if one was needed. And no matter what anyone in his family said, he was not going to be swayed from his decision to not actively practice law again.

.

.

"Heard tell in town today Johnny Redhorse's hearing's set for day after tomorrow," Nick said casually at dinner the following day. "Says he didn't do it, but the sheriff figures he'll be convicted by noon and hung by next sunrise."

"That's terrible," Audra exclaimed. "I can't believe Johnny would be involved in rustling, much less murder. There can't possibly be any evidence to tie him into it."

Nick shrugged. "Don't matter none if he doesn't have a lawyer. Or at least, a lawyer who'll try to prove him innocent rather than someone who's just trying to get his court-appointed duty over with."

Jarrod remained silent, just as he had at Nick's other not-so-subtle attempts to get him to consider defending the young man. He had truly believed one of the town's lawyers would agree to represent Johnny, but if what Nick said was true…

"No one at all is stepping up for the poor man?" Sioned asked, reaching for her water glass. "Do they really believe he's guilty then?"

"He's an Indian," Heath said sardonically. "In a lot of people's minds, that's the same as being guilty, no matter what the crime."

Jarrod abruptly pushed back from the table. He knew what his brothers were trying to do and despite his resolve, it was working. "Will you all excuse me, please?" He left the dining room and walked through the foyer, going outside. Jarrod stopped on the front porch, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air, not surprised when he felt the soft hand on his arm.

"Are you wanting to talk about it?"

Jarrod put his arm around Sioned's shoulders and pulled her close. "I don't know what to do, Sioned," he admitted. "After what happened last year, I just couldn't make myself take up law again. But knowing a probably innocent man will be hung because no one can get past their prejudices… I don't know if I could live with myself if I just sit by." He sighed, shaking his head.

Sioned rested her head on his shoulder. "You have a caring heart, Jarrod, that's one of the things I'm loving about you so much. And I'm thinking you're right, you wouldn't be living with yourself if you didn't try to help." She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Do you really think defending this man will be bringing trouble to your family? Or would you be bringing more trouble by not being true to yourself?"

"But where does it end, Sioned?" Jarrod wanted to know. "I admit, most cases and clients that come a lawyer's way don't have any personal risk attached, but what about when one does? When it comes down to seeing justice served or protecting the ones I love, will I be able to make the right choice?" Used to feeling confident and sure of his actions, the uncertainty he was experiencing unnerved him.

But Sioned slipped her arms around him, pressing close and even before she spoke, Jarrod felt reassured. "I think if you're asking yourself that question now, without the choice even being in front of you, I'll not be worrying that you'll make the wrong decision." She reached up and kissed him softly. "Whatever you're choosing, I'll be right here beside you. I trust you, Jarrod, and your family trusts you. Now all you're needing is to be trusting yourself."

Jarrod returned the kiss, then rested his cheek against her silky hair. "You are a very wise woman, my love," he murmured. "I think I'll head into town first thing in the morning."


	21. Chapter 21

"Something I can do for you?"

"I think so, sheriff." Jarrod extended his hand, wishing his old friend Fred Madden was back in town. But according to Nick, Fred had left Stockton for Arizona a few months ago to care for his ailing mother and no one was sure how long he'd be gone. "My name's Jarrod Barkley."

The lawman stood from behind the desk and shook Jarrod's hand with a strong grip. "Good to meet you, Mr. Barkley. Lon Davies. Met your brothers, fine men." He walked over to the small stove. "Coffee?" he offered, picking up the pot and pouring himself a cup.

"No thank you, sheriff," Jarrod declined. "I'm actually here to confer with my client, Johnny Redhorse."

Sheriff Davies looked at him skeptically. "Client? Heard you was a lawyer, but I didn't think you were doing that sort of thing no more."

"Not for a while," Jarrod concurred with a tolerant smile, "but I think this case is worthy of an exception. May I talk to Mr. Redhorse?"

The sheriff pulled the keys from the wall and unlocked the door into the cellblock. "Be my guest. But if you ask me, that Injun's guilty as sin."

Jarrod's expression grew hard-edged. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not asking you." He followed the sheriff to stand outside the bars of one of the cells.

"Redhorse, you got a visitor," Sheriff Davies announced as he opened the door. The lanky, dark-haired youngster looked up as Jarrod entered the cell.

Jarrod recognized the boy who had come with his father to the ranch a few years ago, helping out until they left to buy a small place of their own. He took note of the despondency in the dark eyes slowly being replaced with hope and was instantly glad he'd come. "Thank you, sheriff," he said brusquely when the man showed no indication of leaving. "I'll let you know when we're done." Jarrod watched as Sheriff Davies relocked the door and went back to the outer office before turning to the young man.

"How are you doing, Johnny?" he asked kindly, pulling up a stool and sitting across from his new client. "Are they treating you all right?"

Johnny nodded slowly. "Yessir, Mr. Barkley. The food's okay and your brother's been by a couple times to visit." He cautiously met Jarrod's eyes. "If it's all right that I'm asking, why are _you _here?"

Jarrod took off his hat, turning it over in his hands. "Well, I was thinking you could use a lawyer." He looked back up at the young man. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come by, but I'd like to represent you, if you want me to."

"I thought…" The hope grew on Johnny's face. "When I asked your brother, sir, he said you weren't a lawyer any more." Then another thought made that hope disappear. "And besides, I don't know if I can afford one, anyways."

Jarrod reached out and patted the youth's knee encouragingly. "Don't worry about the fee, son. And I'm still able to practice law, even though I haven't done it for a while. I have to warn you, I might be a little rusty."

The smile that broke across Johnny's face was all the payment Jarrod needed. "That's okay, sir! I know you're the best, everyone always said so. Do you think you can get them to listen to me?"

"I'll try, Johnny," Jarrod told him, his mind filling with a new sense of purpose. "Now why don't you tell me what you know?"

Johnny shrugged. "Not much, sir," he said with a hint of anxiety. "My father and I, when we left your place, we managed to buy a bit of land south of Madera. We've been working it really hard and saved up some more money. I was…" he looked slightly self-conscious, "I was actually on my way to your place to see if you'd sell us some breeding stock."

"I'm sure once this is all cleared up, we'll be able to talk business," Jarrod told him with a smile. "Now how did that end up with you being arrested?"

"I don't know!" Johnny stood suddenly and paced to the back of the wall in frustration. "I was just riding along and saw some men in the distance. Then I heard someone shout 'That's one of them!' and they started coming at me. I saw one draw his pistol and got scared, so I took off in the other direction. They were faster, I guess, and caught up with me. Pulled me off my horse and I guess I hit my head because the next thing I remember is waking up here, being told I was going to hang for rustling and murder." He looked over at Jarrod earnestly. "You don't think they'll really hang me, do you, Mr. Barkley?"

"Not if I can help it, son," Jarrod tried to assure him. "Now, is there anyone who might be able to corroborate your story? Anyone you saw or talked to on your way here?"

"My father," Johnny said immediately. "But no one will let me send him a message."

Jarrod shook his head, annoyed. "I'll take care of that, Johnny. Anyone else?"

Johnny thought for a moment. "Well, there was this old man on the other side of Modesto. I stopped at his place to ask if I could water my horse and helped him fix the door on his barn. He let me stay in the loft overnight. His name was…" Johnny's brow furrowed in concentration. "Wyatt, I think. Tad Wyatt."

"Johnny, did you tell the sheriff all this?" Jarrod suspected the boy had tried, but wanted to hear it for himself.

"He wouldn't listen, sir." Johnny hung his head in defeat. "No one would listen to me."

"Well, I'm listening now." Jarrod stood and replaced his hat on his head firmly before rapping on the bars. "Sheriff, we're done," he called. As the sheriff came back to unlock the door, Jarrod turned back to the young man. "Keep your chin up, son. You didn't do what they're accusing you of and we'll prove it. Just stand firm."

.

.

Jarrod paused outside the sheriff's office to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the bright sunlight and shook his head in disgust. The world was too full of small-minded people, he thought to himself. Ren Wilson's ranch hands saw an Indian with the rustlers, so when they spotted Johnny on a similar coloured horse, they just assumed he was the one. No other evidence than that had landed the unfortunate youth in jail. Like Heath stated over dinner the previous night, a lot of people thought being an Indian was synonymous with being a criminal and unfortunately, the current sheriff of Stockton was one of those. He hadn't even made an attempt to confirm the person he'd arrested was the one they were looking for.

Jarrod smiled to himself as he swung onto his horse's back. He didn't think Sheriff Davies was likely to make that mistake again. It was a good exercise in self-control for Jarrod not to flatten the narrow-minded lawman, but he'd made it clear in no uncertain terms that he expected due process to be followed and that meant, for starters, making sure a minor's parent was informed of his arrest. Jarrod had also chewed him out for not checking Johnny's alibi and stated he would check it himself, implying he didn't believe Davies capable of taking care of such a simple task.

The first thing he had to do was make sure the wire was sent to Jim Redhorse in Madera and then head to Modesto to find Tad Wyatt. There was a train leaving later in the afternoon and that would give him enough time to talk to the judge and arrange a postponement for tomorrow's hearing before he left. Once he gave Aaron Schiffer the facts, Jarrod was sure the judge would grant his request. As he pulled Jingo to a stop in front of the courthouse and the judge's office, Jarrod mentally rehearsed what he was going to say to the judge when it hit him.

He was about to make that same mistake again. Oh, granted, not on such a catastrophic scale, but how could he head off without even seeing his wife and son? It was undoubtedly for a good cause, but wasn't it always? Jarrod's footsteps were heavy as he made his way to Judge Schiffer's office. He still needed that continuance if he was going to keep an innocent man's neck out of a noose, but his automatic reaction disturbed his conscience and weighed deeply on his mind.

.

.

"Jarrod, I'm thinking you're being too hard on yourself." Sioned lay the dripping baby on the fluffy towel she'd set out on the floor. The freshly bathed Rhys immediately grabbed for his foot and tried to stuff his toes in his mouth, causing Jarrod to chuckle in spite of his uncertainties. "Of course you'd be wanting to find the man as soon as possible to be clearing your client." She efficiently diapered and dressed the baby, picking him up only to have Jarrod whisk him out of her arms and into his. Rhys immediately grabbed for his papa's nose and Jarrod couldn't help smiling again, offering a finger instead.

"But to even consider leaving without coming back to see you first…" he started, only to be cut off by Sioned moving closer and encircling her men in her arms.

"And you didn't," she reminded him, "or you wouldn't be here now."

"I might be gone for a couple days," he warned Sioned, feeling better about himself since he had come straight home after getting the continuance from Judge Schiffer. Resting his cheek against her hair, he sighed, "I just hate to be away from you again. It seems like I've been gone more than I've been around since our son was born." Jarrod shook his head, regret evident on his face as he kissed his son on the forehead. "That's not the type of husband and father I want to be."

"I'm not thinking the past couple months are being typical," Sioned chided gently. "And I couldn't be asking for a better husband, or Rhys a better father."

Jarrod shifted the baby to one arm and put the other around his wife. "If you ever think I'm taking you for granted, Sioned, I'm counting on you to keep me in line." He kissed her gently, not breaking off the embrace until Rhys started to squirm to let his parents know he should be the center of their attention.

"Take him downstairs," Sioned suggested, "and let his gran be spoiling him for a bit. I'll pack you some things to be taking with you in the morning."

"Sioned, I'm perfectly capable of packing my own bag," Jarrod protested, but Sioned laughed as she turned him and pushed him towards the door.

"And I'm your wife and it's my job to be taking care of you." She reached up and kissed his cheek. "Now get along and I'll be down in a bit in time for dinner."

Jarrod carried his son down the grand staircase to find Nick hanging up his gunbelt, obviously straight in from the range.

"And how's my favorite nephew?" the tall rancher boomed, reaching out for the baby who giggled as Jarrod relinquished him to his uncle.

"Just fresh out of the bath," Jarrod told Nick, eyeing his brother's dust-covered clothes. "Don't let Sioned know I let you have him before you washed up."

"Boys thrive on dirt," Nick pronounced as Rhys tried to stuff his uncle's neckerchief into his mouth.

"Uh huh." Jarrod grinned, hands in his pockets as he followed them into the parlour. "If you can convince my wife of that, I think I'll let you handle all the contract negotiations from now on."

"Well, maybe I reckon we'll keep this a little secret between us boys," Nick said conspiratorially, sitting so he could bounce the happily squealing baby on his knee. Jarrod sat across from them, enjoying the ease with which Nick handled Rhys.

"Go to town today?" Nick suddenly asked.

"Yep." There was a brief awkward silence before Jarrod continued. "It seems as if Johnny might have himself an alibi, a farmer down by Modesto. I'm heading out tomorrow morning to see if I can track him down."

"I reckon I could take a couple days to do that for you if you want," Nick offered unexpectedly. "I know you haven't had as much time as you want with your family, what with having to pack up everything in Portland and then the roundup and all. I kinda feel guilty you're being taken away from them again."

Jarrod smiled at the heartfelt offer and shook his head. "Thanks, Nick, but it shouldn't take longer than a day or two and I need to handle it myself. Just keep an eye on them until I get back, would you?"

"Will do, big brother." Nick rose to his feet and handed Rhys back to his father. "Reckon I'll get myself a bath before Heath shows up and uses all the hot water." He leaned down and whispered to Rhys, "And don't tell your mama about the dirt. That's our little secret."

Jarrod chuckled as Nick charged up the stairs, spurs jingling with every step and hoped things would continue to be as easy as they had started.


	22. Chapter 22

As Jarrod sat on the half empty train, feeling the sway of the coach and hearing the clack of the wheels on the rails, he couldn't keep his mind from pondering the future. Sioned and Rhys, they were his life and to Jarrod, everything else had to be secondary. But something Sioned said echoed back to him, what she'd told him that evening when he decided to represent Johnny Redhorse.

_You wouldn't be living with yourself if you didn't try to help._

His wife, intelligent and insightful woman that she was, knew him as well or better than he knew himself. And if he couldn't live with himself, Jarrod knew he couldn't be the kind of man and husband Sioned deserved.

Jarrod sighed and stared out the window at the countryside rushing past. He had a son himself now and wanted to instill the same values, the same strength of character in Rhys that his father had tried to instill in his sons. Tom Barkley had led by example, never compromising his ideals and never backing down from what he thought was right.

But that steadfast determination had cost Jarrod's father his life, ripping him from the people who loved and needed him so much. If he hadn't fought against the railroad, Tom might still be around to care for and nurture the family that Jarrod knew had meant the world to him.

_But would he have still engendered the same respect, the same desire to live up to a great man's legacy if he turned his back and walked away for the fear that he or someone he loved might be hurt and killed? Would we feel the same pride in carrying the Barkley name if Father had let the railroad destroy the livelihood of our friends and neighbours, even if it was to spare us all pain and heartache? _Jarrod closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to reconcile his conflicted thoughts, when he suddenly remembered something his father said to him years before.

He remembered being nervous, not really wanting to crush his father's vision of having his oldest son work by his side and build the empire Tom Barkley had worked hard to establish, but Jarrod had known that he needed to ask if he wanted to be true to his own dreams. But instead of rejecting his son's request to attend college with the intent of entering the law profession, Tom had only smiled and said, _"If a man doesn't stand up for his ideals, well, he can't be much of a man. I'm proud to call you a man, son."_

"Next stop, Modesto!"

The conductor's voice broke into Jarrod's awareness, breaking his concentration and scattering his thoughts. But as he collected his belongings, Jarrod knew he had to try to trust himself again, to merge his passion for the law and love for his family if he was going to live up to those ideals and truly call himself a man.

,

,

Jarrod turned his horse down the lane that led to the small farm. The directions he'd been given back in town when he'd asked how to get to Tad Wyatt's place had been concise and easy to follow, but they also had been tempered with a warning.

"That Wyatt's an ornery old cuss," the livery owner had told him as Jarrod mounted the rented horse. "Sometimes he tends to shoot first and ask questions later when a stranger comes nosing around his place. Hope you know how to use that pistol."

Jarrod rode cautiously up to the small farmhouse. It was nothing fancy, but the place looked to be in good repair even if it was a little worn and faded. "Mr. Wyatt?" he called as he dismounted and tethered the roan securely to the porch. Hearing a noise behind him, Jarrod turned and was greeted by the sight of a grizzled old farmer coming around the corner of the barn, shotgun aimed and ready.

"Reckon you should keep yer hands away from that gun," the older man warned. "I may be old, but I'm a durned good shot."

"My name's Jarrod Barkley," the lawyer said slowly as he took a step forward, only to halt when the farmer made a threatening motion with the rifle. "If you're Tad Wyatt, I'd like to know if you could tell me about a visitor you had, oh, about five days ago. A young Indian boy, said he helped you repair your barn door."

Wyatt slowly lowered the shotgun and pushed up his hat to scratch at his thinning grey hair. "Five days ago, you say?" His face scrunched up as he remembered. "Yep, sounds about right. Polite young feller, let him stay in my loft overnight." He eyed Jarrod suspiciously. "Why d'ya wanna know?"

"Because that same boy was accused of rustling and a murder that took place the very night he was sleeping in your loft," Jarrod stated bluntly.

"That young feller?" Wyatt asked, incredulous. "I'll never believe it. Not the type."

"Well, you could help me keep Johnny from hanging," Jarrod told him. "If I could get you to write out a statement telling when Johnny was here, that would go a long way to proving him innocent."

"What are you, a lawyer or somethin'?"

Jarrod had to chuckle; for the first time in a long time, that term felt good. "Sounds about right," he answered.

"I'd like to help, but never learned me how to read or write, can't even sign my name," the old man continued regretfully. "So sorry to say, but reckon I can't help you none."

"If you'd come with me to Stockton, you could tell the judge in person," Jarrod suggested. "There's a train back late tonight, you could see the judge and be home tomorrow afternoon."

Wyatt scrutinized the lawyer intensely. "Never been further than Modesto," he admitted. "Lived my whole life right here on this farm. If I'm gonna trapeze all over this country with you, reckon I might as well stay a few days and see the sights. Just let me grab my gear and we'll be off. Reckon the goat and chickens kin take care of themselves fer a spell." He hurried up to the house and paused before he went inside. "Who's payin' fer this jaunt, anyways?"

"Your expenses will be covered, Mr. Wyatt," Jarrod assured him with a smile.

"Good, good," Wyatt muttered happily as he went inside.

Jarrod shook his head, still smiling. _You never can tell with people_, he thought. _The sheriff who's supposed to uphold law and justice condemns a man on his heritage alone and a man thought of as an ornery old cuss goes out of his way to exonerate him._

_._

_.  
_

The train pulled into Stockton just after midnight. Everyone would be asleep by the time he made it home anyway, so Jarrod elected to stay at the hotel instead of making the ride back to the ranch. He chuckled as he arranged for rooms for himself and Wyatt, the old man's glee at 'trapezing all over the country' almost childlike in its enthusiasm.

He met Wyatt in the hotel café early the next morning and watched in amazement as the other man packed a huge breakfast of steak, eggs, pancakes and biscuits into his small wiry frame.

"Don't get cookin' like this at home," Wyatt commented through a mouthful of eggs. "Reckon there might be somethin' to this travellin' thing." He cleaned the last scraps of food off his plate and set down his fork. "Now let's get to that judge of yers and set that nice young feller free so I can mosey around this town. Never seen me a riverboat before."

Jarrod shook his head with a smile and put some money on the table to cover the bill. "Thanks for breakfast, Sally," he said to the waitress as he retrieved his hat and he and Wyatt made their way to the courthouse. Leaving a message for the district attorney to meet them in Judge Schiffer's chambers, Jarrod escorted Wyatt through the building and rapped on the judge's door, entering when they heard him call "Come in."

Aaron Schiffer rose from behind the desk. "Jarrod, I'm surprised to see you back so soon," he said, extending a hand, which Jarrod shook warmly. "And I see your expedition proved fruitful."

Jarrod indicated his companion with a nod of his head. "Aaron, this is Tad Wyatt. Mr. Wyatt has some very important information pertaining to the Redhorse case."

Just then, the door opened again to admit the district attorney. "Barkley," Phil Archer said.

"Hello, Phil," Jarrod greeted amiably, ignoring the frosty tone in the other man's voice. "Now that we're all present, Mr. Wyatt has some crucial testimony I think you both need to hear." He sat on the edge of the desk and everyone's eyes turned to Wyatt. "Mr. Wyatt," Jarrod invited.

"A young Indian feller came by my place, back Thursday it was," the old man said. "Wanted to water his horse, then offered to help fix that ol' barn door of mine. Just couldn't get 'er hung straight by myself, y'know. Day was gettin' late, so I let him stay in my barn. Young feller only stayed fer coffee next mornin', said he was headin' up Stockton way."

Archer narrowed his eyes and gave the man a withering look as the judge nodded.

"And did you get this young fellow's name?" Schiffer asked.

"Yessiree." Wyatt grinned. "Said his name was Redhorse. Johnny Redhorse."

"You believe this old geezer, Judge?" Archer asked incredulously.

Jarrod cocked his head, a satisfied smile on his face. "More importantly, Phil, do you think a jury will believe this old geezer?" Wyatt gave a little chuckle at the term. "Especially when we add in the wires I received this morning from Johnny's father and neighbours in Madera telling just when he left on his trip to Stockton."

Archer huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, the sheriff and I have witnesses that say this boy was in on Ren Wilson's murder," he maintained.

"Witnesses that jumped the first Indian they saw," Jarrod corrected. "Come on now, Phil, do you really think your witnesses could identify Johnny from any other Indian if they were shown several together?"

Archer continued to stare at Jarrod belligerently and Jarrod returned the gaze calmly.

"Mr. Archer," Judge Schiffer spoke up, "when you first brought me this case, I told you it was circumstantial at best. When Mr. Wyatt here identifies your suspect as the boy who spent the night in his barn, I recommend your office drop the charges instead of bringing this case into my courtroom where I'd just have to dismiss them anyway."

Archer made one last attempt. "Barkley here isn't even practicing law anymore," he sneered. "How can he attempt to argue this case?"

"Archer," Jarrod retorted hotly, not bothering to use his colleague's given name, "anyone has a right to argue a case in court. And since I haven't heard anything about my being disbarred, that makes me doubly qualified."

Judge Schiffer clapped Jarrod on the shoulder. "Come on, counsellor, let's take your witness down to the sheriff's office and exonerate that young man." He looked over at the D.A. "Coming, Mr. Archer?"

.

.

"Thank you, Mr. Barkley," Johnny said effusively when they emerged into the bright sunshine from the dim light of the sheriff's office, shaking Jarrod's hand. "And you, Mr. Wyatt. Thank you for everything."

Wyatt shook Johnny's hand as well. "Think nothin' of it, young feller. Now I have me some sightseein' to do." He gave them a jaunty wave and ambled off down the sidewalk.

"How can I repay you, Mr. Barkley?" Johnny asked, turning back to Jarrod. "I mean, I do have some money that I was going to use to buy cattle, you're welcome to it."

"Well, Johnny," Jarrod told him, slinging a companionable arm around the youth's shoulders, "how about you just come out to the ranch with me and we can talk about the stock you're looking for. I'm sure we can come up with a satisfactory arrangement for everything and I know my mother will be wanting to get a few good meals into you before you head back home."

"I don't want to be a bother Mr. Barkley," Johnny started, but Jarrod cut him off.

"Not at all. When you do business with us, we make sure you're treated right. Now let's go and we'll be at the house in time for lunch."

True to Jarrod's prediction, Johnny was whisked upstairs by Victoria to get cleaned up before joining the family for lunch, giving Jarrod a much-needed private moment to greet his wife and son.

"I'm taking it things went well?" Sioned commented with a smile as Jarrod gazed into the cradle where Rhys was sleeping.

Jarrod turned to her and gathered her into his arms. "And even better now that I'm back with you where I belong," he said and gave her a tender kiss.

"Well, I'll not be complaining about that," Sioned replied, slipping her arms around his neck to return the kiss. Their embrace deepened until a loud squawk was heard from the cradle.

"Now how is Rhys ever going to get any brothers or sisters if he keeps interrupting?" Jarrod murmured into his wife's ear as she tried to push him away.

"Jarrod, it's barely twelve o'clock in the afternoon," she scolded, smiling. "And besides, your family is sure to be waiting on us for dinner."

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind starting without us." Jarrod tried to kiss her again, but Sioned dodged him with a laugh, reaching into the cradle to pick up the baby. Rhys cooed happily and Sioned handed him to his father.

"Hold him while I'm getting his things so we can all be going downstairs," she ordered. "That should be keeping you out of trouble."

"What do you think, Rhys, should we let her boss us around like that?" Jarrod asked his son, adroitly ducking out of the way of the small blanket Sioned threw at them.

"I'm just teaching our son proper respect," Sioned retorted, her eyes twinkling. She walked over and put her hand on Jarrod's arm. "It's good to be seeing you so relaxed," she told him. "You were being a wee bit touchy before you agreed to be that young man's lawyer."

Jarrod smiled regretfully. "I'm sorry, honey. The situation had me a bit torn, I suppose."

"And now that Mr. Redhorse is going free? Will you be returning to work on the ranch with your brothers?"

Jarrod stroked his son's dark hair, taking a moment to answer. "It felt good, Sioned," he admitted finally. "To know that I was able to make a difference and uphold the law the way it was meant to be, to remind some of my esteemed colleagues that a man is innocent until proven guilty and not the other way around." He gazed down at his wife and saw the love and understanding on her face. "I believe in those things, that those principles are part of what makes this country the place our son will grow up in. And I've always wanted to be a part of them." Jarrod leaned over and kissed Sioned's cheek. "I think I want to take up law again, Sioned. But I can't say I haven't enjoyed working out on the range with Nick and Heath. Somewhere along the road, I'd forgotten how much this land means to me."

"Does it have to be one or the other?" Sioned wanted to know. "Is there a way you could be doing both?"

Jarrod chuckled. "Well, if there is, I know I can count on you to help me find it. Have I told you how much I love you since I got home?"

"I'm not recalling hearing anything like that," she teased.

"I love you, Sioned," Jarrod told her, gazing into her soft brown eyes.

Sioned smiled. "And I you. Now let's go for dinner before the family is sending someone to look for us."


	23. Chapter 23 conclusion

"Well, Johnny, what do you think? Like anything you saw out there?" Nick swung out of the saddle and led Coco to a nearby trough where the dark chestnut drank greedily.

"All of your cattle are fine, Mr. Barkley," Johnny said enthusiastically as he and Jarrod led their mounts to drink. "But I really liked that big blue brindle cow and those two matched duns."

Nick clapped him on the back. "Your daddy sure taught you well, boy," he said with a wide grin. "Let's head inside and come up with a price for those cows. And don't be expecting a bargain just because you're a client of my big brother's." The last was said with a wink for Jarrod, who just shook his head with a smile.

"Oh, no, sir," Johnny said fervently. "I wouldn't expect you to ask for anything other than what they're worth."

The three men turned at the sound of hoofbeats coming up the drive.

"Now who the devil is that?" Nick wondered, a perplexed expression on his face. "He's sitting on that poor horse like a sack of potatoes."

The rider of the approaching horse did resemble a floppy sack, slouched over his mount's neck with his arms and legs flapping in an ungainly manner.

Jarrod pushed back his hat. "You know, I believe that's Tad Wyatt."

"And who the devil is Tad Wyatt?"

"The man who came all the way from Modesto to exonerate our young friend here," Jarrod informed his impatient brother with a smile before turning to their guest. "Mr. Wyatt, what brings you all the way out from town?" he asked. "Surely the sights of Stockton haven't paled already."

The old man slid clumsily out of the saddle. "No, sirree. I was enjoyin' the fine sights and finer whiskey of your waterfront when I heard somethin' that I reckoned you should know right away. No sense in comin' all the way 'cross California to free this young feller to have those scallywags continue their rustlin' and murderin', now is there?"

Nick crossed his arms across his chest. "Mr. Wyatt, are you trying to tell us you can help catch the rustlers who've been plaguing us?"

"You bet yer spurs I can. Didn't get a good look at 'em, it was all shadowed-like, but I overheard some fellers sayin' they was gonna hit the Barkley spread tonight. I seem to recollect this young lawyer sayin' his name was Barkley." Wyatt grinned widely. "Thought you jes' might wanna do somethin' about it."

Hazel eyes met blue as both brothers nodded. "That is a fact, Mr. Wyatt," Nick confirmed. "Jarrod, I'm gonna head out and get Heath and a bunch of the men back here so we can make ourselves a plan." He strode off to get his horse.

"Well, Mr. Wyatt," Jarrod said, hooking his hands in his pockets, "it seems we're in your debt yet again. Why don't you come inside? I'll get you a drink and you can fill me in on exactly what you heard."

"Never been in a place like this," Wyatt said with a whistle as they approached the stately mansion. "Didn't really reckon on you bein' one of them rich folks. Yer not rude and uppity enough."

Jarrod chuckled. "I'm sure my mother will be happy to hear it. Now let's go get that drink. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

.

.

The soft lowing of cattle was a soothing noise from the dark of the pasture. According to Wyatt's information, this was the spot the rustlers were planning to hit. A herd of steers ready for market and Walnut Creek not far off with a lot of rock beyond, an ideal place to drive the beeves through so their trail wouldn't be easy to pick up. The Barkleys had strategically placed about a dozen men around the area. They had debated whether to include Sheriff Davies, but they all had misgivings as to Davies' competence, so the sheriff was left out of the plan. Jarrod was entrenched behind a large deadfall, Johnny Redhorse right beside him.

"Thanks for letting me come along, Mr. Barkley," he whispered, careful of making too much noise. "I sure do have a score to settle with this bunch."

"Glad we could help, Johnny," Jarrod said in an equally quiet voice, keeping a watchful eye on the herd. A faint crunch alerted him to someone coming near and he turned and lowered his rifle when he saw who it was.

Nick crouched down beside them. "We've got the area pretty well covered," he said, settling into place. "Now all we can do is wait."

Jarrod eyed him curiously. "I thought you were taking the north section with Duke?"

Nick flashed his brother a slightly exasperated grin. "I was, until a certain dark-haired Welsh lass told me in no uncertain terms that I was to make sure her husband returned in one piece. So I guess I'm stuck babysitting the two of you."

"Well, we'll see who's babysitting whom, right, Johnny?" Jarrod retorted, stifling a laugh at the image of his Sioned giving orders to Nick. "Besides, she already told me I'd better not get myself killed, since if I did, she'd just have to kill me again."

Nick checked his rifle to make sure it was loaded properly. "Y'know, you didn't have to come out with us tonight, Jarrod."

"Now, brother Nick, I have just as much stake in catching these rustlers as you do," Jarrod told him. "It's my ranch, too, remember?"

"I know that." Nick shifted, not one to sit still for too long of a time. "It's just you've got a family now that's depending on you to come home. With all the hands, we've got enough men to cover everything."

Jarrod gave his brother a rueful smile. "Thanks for the concern, Nick, but that's just why I have to be out here." Nick looked at him questioningly and Jarrod elaborated, "How can I hold my head up if I let fear or worry dictate my actions? That's not what Father taught us and that's not what I want to teach my son. If someone wants to call himself a man, he has to stand up for his family and what he believes in. That's just what I plan on doing." He chuckled softly. "I also plan on listening to my wife and come home in one piece."

"The better part of valour," Nick agreed, chuckling himself. They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the cattle and the slight breeze that stirred up the leaves.

"So, Johnny," Nick spoke up, "what do you think of my big brother as a lawyer?"

Jarrod shot Nick a warning glance, but Nick ignored him.

"I owe him my life, Mr. Barkley," Johnny said thankfully. "He made the judge and the district attorney listen, and the sheriff. I don't think anyone else could've done a better job."

"Think he should keep it up?"

"Oh, yes." Johnny glanced over to Jarrod, who was studying the grip on his rifle. "I mean, only if you want to, Mr. Barkley. But I'm just grateful you decided to stand up for me."

Jarrod shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, son. I'll have you know I am considering it. But," he said, forestalling any comment from Nick, "we have to take care of this first."

Just then, a muttered oath echoed across the pasture and all three men's attention was immediately focused.

"Reckon it's showtime," Nick whispered. "See anything, Jarrod?"

Jarrod surveyed the area carefully. The rustlers had picked their time well; there was only the last bit of a waning moon for light and even that was shrouded in cloud at the moment. He thought he saw some movement and nudged Nick. "Over there," he said, his eyes identifying the silhouette of a couple men on horseback. "Can't make out how many, though."

Nick nodded. "Reckon they're closest to us. Hope the others move quick when the shooting starts." He readied his rifle and raised up a bit for a better view. "Hold it right there!" he called in a booming voice. "You ain't getting away with any Barkley beef tonight!"

He was answered by the retort of a rifle and ducked as the slug took a chunk out of the log in front of him. Muzzle flashes blossomed in the dark and the Barkleys returned fire, Johnny getting in a few shots of his own. The cattle bawled in terror and scattered, adding to the chaos. Finally, no answering shots came from the darkness and guns were slowly lowered.

"Counting on you to watch my back, big brother," Nick said and flashed Jarrod a cocky grin as he moved out from cover. Jarrod held his gun ready as he motioned to Johnny and they cautiously followed Nick. They met Heath partway across the pasture, the blond gazing regretfully at the body of a young native man.

"Two more dead over there," he told them, "and one who's still alive. Bet you'll never guess who it is." Heath led them over to a form moaning softly on the grass.

Jarrod pushed up his hat and gave a cynical shake of his head.

"Huh," was all that came from Nick.

"It's the sheriff!" exclaimed Johnny, wide-eyed.

Jarrod knelt down beside him. He saw the blood bubbling out of the other man's mouth and knew Davies wasn't going to live much longer.

"Made almost five thousand dollars," the sheriff wheezed hoarsely, "Hell of a lot more than fifty a month as sheriff." He coughed, more blood spattering his chin. "Almost worth it, too-" Davies' breath came as a sharp inhale and then he was still. Jarrod heaved a deep sigh and slowly closed the eyelids over unseeing eyes.

"Duke," he called to the foreman who was making his way towards them, "take care of these, will you?" Jarrod looked to his two brothers. "I think it's time we head home."

.

.

"Well, Sioned, what do you think?"

Sioned ran her hand over the polished mahogany and twitched one of the drapes so it would hang straighter. "I think it's being very Jarrod Barkley," she said, turning to give her husband a smile.

Jarrod looked around his law office in satisfaction. It had only taken two weeks to get the space back in order and his first appointment was already booked for the next morning. "Mornings here in town and afternoons only when I have to be in court," he told Sioned as he put his arms around her. "That leaves me plenty of time to get my hands dirty around the ranch and of course, plenty of time with you and our son."

Sioned looked up and met his brilliant blue gaze. "Are you sure this is what you're wanting, Jarrod? I know I'm being as guilty as the rest of your family in urging you to be taking up your practice again. If it's not where your heart is lying…"

Jarrod kissed her on the forehead as he held her close. "My heart is lying with you, Sioned. And I do want to take up law again. It's something I'm good at and it brings me a great deal of satisfaction." He flashed her a dashing grin. "I'm just trusting you to keep me in line if my zeal starts to get out of control."

"Isn't that what a wife is for?" she teased.

Jarrod chuckled and leaned down. Sioned tilted her head up and their lips met in a tender kiss.

"Reckon they've started the celebration without us."

The couple broke apart and turned, a faint blush on Sioned's face and a smile on Jarrod's.

"Heath, I think you're picking up Nick's bad habit of entering without knocking first," Jarrod chided, taking Rhys from his brother's arms.

"Don't go blaming me!" came the objection from the doorway as Nick entered with Victoria and Audra.

Victoria walked over and gave Jarrod a kiss on the cheek. "You look happy, darling," she observed.

"I am, Mother." Jarrod looked around at his office, then at the things that meant so much to him. His mother, her grey eyes shining with pride; his sister, a beautiful dimpled smile gracing her face; his brothers, bantering good-naturedly as they searched the shelves for glasses to serve the bottle of champagne they'd brought along; and finally, gazing at his wife and son.

Jarrod shifted his son in his arms to take the glass of champagne offered by Nick and held it up in a toast. "To my family," he declared. "I'm not sure if I can find words enough to express how much I love you all. I know I haven't always shown it, but you mean the world to me and I'd be a poorer man without each and everyone of you."

Never again would Jarrod forget how truly blessed he was as felt Sioned's arm slip around his waist as those he loved echoed, "To family."


End file.
